Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pretty Little Toy Soldiers

Being nothing but broken shards and empty space means I don't crack. I don't crumble. I have no structure to press against - you can grind me into a powder and it's still me, still here - “Dust”

---

He could smell smoke.

That was the first, fleeting thought through Leon’s mind as he rolled over, spitting black and red tinged saliva into the snow around his face.

He lifted his arms, gloved hands attempting to push himself up only to have them sink, the snow giving under him, refusing to grant him a purchase in which to leverage his body weight.

A shift of his hips and his whole body sank, causing him to still. He was bleeding, probably broken, face first in a snow field with smoke around him…this didn't bode well for survival.

He twisted his neck, hissing sharply as his whole right side screamed and went back to being one with the snow, at least able to breathe - as much as one could in the middle of a smoke path next to…he squinted…what was apparently a very large two story building in the middle of a forest that was currently doing it's best rendition of a fireball.

Right…Neo-Umbrella…warehouse…was supposed to investigate that…

He had no idea if he hadinvestigated it or why it was currently flambé'd, his brain refusing to fill in the blanks beyond screaming, pain and the unfortunately too familiar warning of another building about to self-destruct.

“Why are there always explosions - why not a nice pool of destruction?” He groaned, before spitting and drooling more blood and smoke tinged saliva into the snow, realizing that if he didn't move, the poison fog of burning chemicals and building would be more than enough.

Sadly, he was too tired, too injured and far too cold for that thought to do more than flit across his consciousness, not triggering the alarm of his higher brain functions as cold swamped over him, stealing his sight with a soft, deepening blackness as unconsciousness claimed him.

--

The grave was empty.

Well…of a body. Sherry had dug the torn and bloodied RCP uniform from a box in the back of Leon's closet and gave it to the DSO mortician handling the arrangements, nails scraping slightly over the lid as she almost tried to cling to it. Jake had to hold her, to keep her from grabbing it back as the mortician handed it off.

Claire and Chris took over the rest of the arrangements while Sherry broke down, clinging to Jake on the floor behind their chairs.

“Family?”

“Sherry Birkin, daughter.”

“Any friends to be mentioned?”

“No.”

“Funeral?”

“Just a graveside ceremony.”

“Military service-oh, never mind, I see we have full honors from the President. I will arrange that. Will you need transportation?”

“Please.”

Sherry was still clinging to Jake at the grave, her body shaking as she watched the Presidential motorcade wind its way towards them. She wanted to react, to bar the man approaching from coming near them, to scream at him - remind him that this was his fault, that everything Leon had been through since that night in Racoon City was his fault and now her father, her true father was gone, killed in action, not even a body to bury because President Adam fucking Benford decided to use a little girl against a twenty-one year old man just so he could have a toy soldier to play with.

But…she couldn't do that because her father had cared for the man. Time and familiarity breeding a friendship that has lasted two decades and as Adam stopped in front of her, Sherry saw her own grief in his eyes. Knew that pain.

She reached out, hugging him tightly, clinging to him. “I am sorry, Adam…”

“I am too, Sherry….God, I am too.”

--

“So they brought you in as well? Doesn't seem like they want this plan to succeed then.”

Ada looked over her shoulder at the man walking up behind her, red lips curling into a smirk. “Really, H.UN.K, and why would that be?”

“Let's just say our objectives don't always align,”

“Quite. Lucky for you them, I am the one who hired you,” Ada countered, tossing a data cube at the older man, a laugh escaping her at his briefly startled expression before he managed to school it back into a more neutral look. “This specimen is a bit too large for me to handle alone.”

H.U.N.K.’s gloved fingers flipped through the data, nodding. “Would be amusing to watch you attempt to get that out of the building. I take it we’re leaving reactivation for a more controlled environment?”. He slid on his mask as he spoke, his voice connecting to her earpiece, taking on a tinned, electronic quality.

“Would probably be best, all things considered. You know how grumpy he is when he wakes up.” She raised her hookshot before offering it to him. Figuring he would rather hold onto the device than her waist as they swung towards the BSAA Middle Eastern branch in Qatar.

---

“Oy, Wong!”

Ada looked up from the data cube, arching an eyebrow at H.U.N.K. who was several rows away from her before sighing. She followed the winding path to his side, clacking heels stuttering as she took in the pod he was in front of, immediately seeing what caught his eye. “Well this is…unexpected.”

“Think we might want to add him to the cargo manifest? Would fetch a shiny penny from a lot of buyers,”

Ada tapped her fingers on the screen next to the pod, scrolling through the subject’s information. “It would be…difficult to escape with two of them.”

“We were already planning on busting out of here with a seven foot tall Tyrant pod. We weren't exactly making the cleanest getaway.”

“Forklift?”

“I’ll go start her up, you get them ready “ H.U.N.K. stated, heading off to find a forklift to start transporting two B.O.W
tubes.

Ada turned back to the terminal, using her data cube to download the information on the specimen before unlatching the tube from its moorings, gently lowering it to the floor for H.U.N.K. to collect, returning to their original prize to repeat the activity.

--

“Gentle…gentle…there!”. Ada patted the pod containing the Tyrant and drew a cover over it. Blocking light from getting into the tube, turning her attention to the trunk next to the king size bed, gloved hands carefully unpacking items as the movers started gathering their materials.

“Where should we put the spare?” H.U.N.K. asked from the door, gesturing over his shoulder to the secondary tube that two movers held strapped into a dolly behind him.

Ada paused, fingers absently tracing over a nude male figurine as she thought. “The guest rooms can go into individual lock down, correct?”

H.U.N.K. nodded, running a hand over his hair, accidentally spiking it up from sweat. “Each room is fit with its own security measures and they can be rerouted to the office.”

“Then let’s give him the amber room. It's…calming.”

H.U.N.K. stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Calming,” he muttered, turning on his heel and directing the movers down to the guest quarters two decks down.

Ada returned to the unpacking, humming light as she selected an outfit, laying it out on the bed in order of dress, everything from underwear to the socks carefully tucked into the tops of freshly polished boots. While valet was not a normal job description for her, she was never one to leave a job only partially complete and besides, it wasn't every day you got to dress Albert Wesker.

---

“How long until they pop?”

Ada chased a cherry tomato around her plate as she clicked a finger across her tablet, first checking room feeds before bringing up the status tables for the two pods the pair (really the whole yacht) were waiting on. “Ten minutes ago at the earliest, tomorrow morning at the latest. Both have finished draining.”

She looked up at H.U.N.K. offering him the tomato she finally sprayed on the times of her fork.

He shook his head, a small smile on his face, but did cut off a bite sized bit of his cheeseburger, sliding it into her plate, knowing what she actually wanted. “You could have just asked for your own.”

“Yes. But what would be the fun in that?” Grinning, she cut the bite in half, savoring the tastes of the rich and fatty dinner he was indulging in, making plans to get him to for sure make more of them on a day she could eat a full meal of more calories laden food than a salad. “I sent your fee this morning.”

“I know.”

Ada blinked at this, tilting her head in silent question as she took a sip of her water.

“You have me interested, Ms. Wong. First there's Wesker. How you managed to track him down and get in - not even going to ask and I was there for part of it.”. He sipped his beer before gesturing with it towards the door. “Then, we have the stowaway. Neither will be a picnic to handle on their own, yet you have no security, a handful of lab rats and have them trapped in a luxury yacht in the middle of the Pacific which, for all its upgrades, isn't exactly the most secure ship around.”

He shifted in his seat, leaning in towards her. “So, I am interested…and concerned. Call it a freebie or call it the self interest of looking after two of my best clients, but I would rather not find out that I left this ship and you three killed each other.”

“Concern? From the great and stoic H.UN.K? I am shocked!”

H.U.NK. snorted. “Don't look into it too deep. You pay well and aren't a complete bitch,”. He shrugged, draining his beer. “Besides, I used to have a girl your age. You remind me a bit of her.’

Ada stilled for a moment, the question she wanted to ask on the top of her tongue but instead, she finished taking a bite of salad, not looking at him as he stood, heading to the security wing. H.U.N.K. paused at the door, his gloved hand resting on the cool metal, staring blankly at the wall before he looked down and back towards her, speaking to her shoes more than her. “The code name wasn't destined to be passed down the family line.“ With that, he slid on his mask and left, leaving Ada to let out a sigh for another kid lost to their work.

--

Red eyes jerked open, staring through the glass into the room beyond. A gasp echoed in the metal tube as the human took a breath for the first time in over a year.

Leon reached out, touching the glass, confusion radiating through his mind as the door popped open, allowing him free of the tube.

He stumbled out, knees hitting the blush brown carpet hard, and promptly started vomiting.

Thick black puddles gathered beneath him, inky morases of liquid and fiber that clung thickly to what it touched.

Leon collapsed onto his side, dark lines tracing over his skin, twining like vines as it wrapped around his flesh.

Somewhere, an alarm sounded, lights flashing red.

Chapter Text

It's so curious: one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses.-Colette

“Yes, but why is there a DSO agent in my lab, nearly dead and why are you insisting I cannot complete the transformation?” Wesker asked cooly, staring down at Ada.

“Technically, it's my lab since you were reported dead awhile ago,” she pointed out, sliding onto a counter. “And play nice. Leon hasn't actually done anything to you.”

“Yet.” It was an unneeded addition, but Wesker felt like adding it. He held out his hand and Leon’s file was immediately handed to him by one of the technicians, standing nearby.

Amber eyes scanned over the basics rapidly, before slowing and Ada could pinpoint the exact moment he got to the information she knew would peak his interest. Those eyes jerked up, once again studying the man in the glass room

“Be gentle. He’s not a toy to pick apart,” she warned. “We don't yet know what that combination can do…it could be killing him.”

“According to his vitals, he is currently mostly stable,” Wesker stated, flipping back a page to double check. “I would need a full lab and viral count - this says he was found passed out in his stateroom covered in…Mold?”

“Yeup” H.U.N.K said, popping the P sound. “It started a viral contamination alarm and…” he shrugged. “Passed out in Mold.”

“Do we have a sample?”

“He’s still covered in it,” Ada pointed to the ropey vine-like strands. It was attaching him to the puddle and if we try to clean it off…it doesn't go well.”

Wesker flipped rapidly through the file, trying to see what they had on the subject before pausing. “Oh…”

He threw the file aside, shoving into the room. He slammed open and closed drawers as he searched them, looking for something. Slamming several bottles, a syringe, wrapped needle and gloves onto the table (and accidentally sending it rolling hard into Leon's bedside with the force), he turned off the IV, currently pouring saline and sedatives into the other man before snapping on the gloves.

He opened the sterile needle, twisting the syringe onto it before drawing it free if it's packing, using a leg to pull over a stool as he took a seat next to Leon.

“Ada. Get in here and put on gloves.” His eyes were focused on the syringe, watching as it filled with a clear liquid, but his ears were listening for the mercenary.

Ada glanced at H.U.N.K. who shrugged before she stepped in and replaced her leather gloves with nitrile.

“Roll up my sleeves, get me the rubbing alcohol and get a tablet from the station,”

Ada blinked at the commands before realizing that Wesker wanted to keep from breaking his sterility now that he hand touched things he was going to use on Leon and shrugged, doing as requested.

She dropped several alcohol wipes on the tray, rolling up the shirt sleeves to mid bicep and using clips to secure them before grabbing a tablet and her own chair, figuring she could take notes since he probably wouldn't until he was finished to keep from contaminating either Leon or the tablet.

Wesker had a small, rare smile, pleased to have someone with half a brain to assist him as he pushed the first syringe of liquid into the IV port, following the trail of liquid. He followed this with a saline flush before handing Ada the bottle so she could properly type the name. “24cc.”

He moved to an amber colored liquid next, turning it over in his fingers for a long moment, the Tricell logo faded but still clear on it. Shading his head. He filled the syringe, adjusting the dosage perfectly.

Three more medications and three more dosages, each one just as carefully administered until finally Wesker pulled his gloves off, tossing them and the syringe into the biohazard bins. “He should remain unconscious until tomorrow. Then we shall see what Agent Kennedy has to offer.”

Pulling a pen light from a drawer, Wesker pulled back each of the other man’s eyelids, checking his pupils. “Correct me if I‘m wrong…but were his eyes not blue before?”

“Most of the time. Yes,” Ada said, standing. She leaned in, looking down at Leon’s red eyes. “Until the Plagas fully took…but they returned to blue after.”

Wesker made a sound, releasing the eyelid. “That explains the virus then. I am surprised, it's not something people survive to play with.”

Ada fished her data cube from her pocket, flipping around to her copy of Leon's records. “I haven't even heard of this one,”. She said as she followed Wesker out of the room.

“You wouldn't have. Only two people were known to have lived past the initial infection before Agent Kennedy.”

---

It was with a strangled curse that Leon returned to the world again, finding himself alone, the steady beat of a heart monitor his only companion.

He sat up, a heavy velvet blanket sliding down his bare torso as he raised an arm to run through his hair, hissing as the action pulled on the IV in his arm.

A mild alarm sounded and Leon hissed as the noise sent a shock of pain through his head, hitting the machine.

He stared as it went flying across the room, not even feeling the IV ripping from his arm in the process.

The machine shattered into the wall, just missing hitting the blond who had been entering, causing a terror filled squeak from the technician behind him. “Wait out here,” Wesker ordered the technician before shutting the door in her face.

“I see that you're awake, Agent Kennedy.”

“I see that you're alive. What the fuck did you do to me?”

“I did nothing. You were recovered in this condition by an associate.”

“An associate? Who? And why the fuck do you expect me to believe that bullshit?”

Wesker pulled his phone from his pockets, checking the text he expected to find. “She will be here shortly.” It was the only answer he gave before opening the door for the technician again.

“Please check Agent Kennedy’s vitals and then retrieve a new IV and perhaps without a stand this time.”

The technician nodded, entering the room and hesitantly moving closer to Leon who used a pillow to bat her away. “Get you minion away from me, Wesker “

Wesker pinched the bridge nose, before removing his sunglasses, blinking a few times as his eyes attempted to adjust to the light. “Can you, please, just relax and let her do her job so I can leave the room and be done with you or must I sedate you again?”

“Come near me and I swear to God I will shove that IV pole so far up your ass you’ll be able to-”

“Leon!” Ada snapped from the door, halting his words.

“You're working for him again?” Leon asked, glaring at her as she pushed past Wesker, taking a seat on his bed.

“Actually, he’s working for me,” She looked at Wesker, nodding her head to the door. “Give us a bit, you can harass him later, Albert.”

Wesker snorted but turned on his heel, leaving the pair, his technician following at a fast clip.

“What is going on, Ada?”. Leon asked, drawing his legs up, red eyes staring at her.

“What do you last remember, Leon?”

“Your thighs wrapped around my…okay, fuck you hit hard,” he rubbed his shoulder before losing his eyes, sighing. “Cold. And smoke. I…”

He swallowed thickly. “It was a normal op, in, wreck shit, get out, watch it go boom, go home and report to Adam before passing out - usual shit-”

“Which means it went spectacularly wrong,” Ada said, shaking her head. “You were found almost dead not far from the burnt out lab by the BSAA Europe.”

“Doesn't explain how I’m here if BSAA found me, Chris would have tossed me back-”

“They never informed BSAA North America nor the DSO of your discovery. Officially, to the world, Leon Scott Kennedy died somewhere in the world on a covert mission to save the world from bio-terrorism. You were buried as a hero in Arlington.”

Leon stared at her, a sharp pain lancing through his chest. Everything he was, everything he had built…was gone.

His friends…his life…his career.

“Ada…I think you may want to leave,” he whispered as mold started to leech out of him, the tendrils across his arms growing. “Please.”

Ada nodded, scooting away from the creeping tendrils. She didn't run, no matter what it may have felt, and she certainly didn't slam the door behind her as Leon started to vomit, the contamination alarm sounding again.

She slid to the floor, pulling a gun from her boot, tears sliding down her cheeks as she listened to her best friend start to sob on the other side of the door, his grief retching out of him in strangled cries and pools of Mold

--

“I suppose I am to thank you,” Leon said, leaning against the door to Wesker's study.

“For?” The blond asked, not bothering to look up from what he was writing.

“Apparently that is the second time you've saved me.”

“Third,” Wesker said, capping his pen and closing the leather-bound journal before looking at Leon. The younger man was wearing one of Wesker's old military sweatshirts, the collar hanging off one of his shoulders from being too loose, the shorts probably belonging to H.U.N.K. as the only other male that Leon was near enough in size he wouldn't need a belt.

It made him look…younger than he should have, as did the tear red eyes and flushed face.

“The Progenitor virus in you is also mine. Apparently, it is what brought you and your Plagas back.”

“Oh.”

“If that is all?”. Wesker dismissed him without answering, moving to open his notebook again.

Leon raised his arm and there was a flash. Wesker went to move but instead he landed face first into his desk, blood pooling around his head from a single gunshot wound, straight though the side of his head.

Leon had used a flash decoy, and fired where Wesker had gone to move, his eyes tracking him better than any normal humans’ could.

He let the gun drop from his hand, one of H.U.N.K.’s back ups he had left in the security office, heading back to his room, footsteps unsteady, still weak from his entire trauma and ordeal.

--

“I brought you a surprise,” Ada said, crossing the room, slowly unbuttoning her shirt as she did.

Leon arched an eyebrow at her, setting aside the book he had been reading, his hands sliding over her leather glad hips as she straddled his legs. “Oh?”. He flicked his bangs out on his face, eyes dancing with laughter. “And here I thought we already tried this dan-”

His words were cut off as a small, fuzzy black head was revealed, two golden eyes sleepily peeking out from where a kitten was nestled between Ada’s breasts. “I know you haven't had a new cat since Abby passed,“ she said and arched her back, allowing Leon to reach into her bra and retrieve the sleepy kitten.

Leon carefully untangled the little black mass from its lace and wire bed, making sure both its claws and Ada’s flesh stayed separated, gently brushing a thumb over the top of its fluffy head. “It's rather hard to have a pet and be a super agent. Even with someone dropping in to feed them.”

Plus, he still hadn't fully finished grieving for the tabby cat he had since first moving to D.C.

“Well this little girl looked like she could use a new daddy,” Ada said as she ran a finger down the kitten’s nose, smiling as it yawned, eyes drifting down. “She's just ready to leave Mom and Wesker is going to part out half the litter as there were too many for a ship this size - her siblings get shipped off tomorrow to play rat catchers at various labs.”

Leon made a face at that, hoping none of the labs were testing anything on rodent species, cradling the kitten close. “Well, we can't have her join them, can we, little Miss Fortune.”

The newly dubbed Miss Fortune yawned again, curling up in Leon’s arms, her long black tail sleepily swaying as she drifted off to sleep, little claws sliding into his skin, holding on tight, claiming him.

--

“I should rip your throat out.”

“Not in front of the kitten,” Leon said, dangling a piece of yarn for her to play with before looking up at Wesker. “I was wondering how long that would take…at least Chris isn't the only one who can say he's killed you now.”

Leon turned his attention back to the little black kitten, making a face at her as she pawed his nose.

“Is it out of your system, now?”

“Until you try to kill someone I care about, sure,” Leon rolled into his side so he could fully look at Wesker, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a lot calmer about it then reports would have one believe,”

“Amazing what dying does for one's outlook,” Wesker muttered, not referring to Leon shooting him but his second death at Chris’ hands. “Besides, you can't kill a God.”

Leon snorted. “You aren't a God, Wesker. Your just another fucked up toy that got tossed aside. If you hadn't killed Spencer, you would have ended up in the same place, a cold tube forgotten in storage.”

“And what does that make you?”

“Another broken little tin soldier in a child's trash can. Come on - we were nothing but B.O.W. canon fodder, waiting to be tossed into a meat grinder just like every other creation. Once they found something bloody enough to kill us, that's when we would have been found.”

“There isn't anything on this Earth that can kill me.”

“Everything dies, Albert - even you,” Leon shook his head. “But hey, you want to keep believing you're invincible and pushing until they shove a nuke up your ass, be my guest. Just keep Ada out of it. She doesn't deserve to die for your delusional ideals.”

“I have no interest in killing your girlfriend.”

“Why does everyone assume we're dating just because we flirt. I’m a flirt, I flirt with everything and everyone. Ada’s my sister and best friend, dating her would be like dating Claire.”

Wesker opened his mouth and then closed it. He had had something more witty to say but had been distracted by the idea of Leon flirting with anything and then he just needed to leave

“I think I broke him,” Leon stage whispered to Miss Fortune with a laugh before yelping as she bit his nose.

---

“My contract is completed, Adam.” Leon was sitting at his desk, fingers absently stroking the glass of whiskey in front of him.

Wesker was on the bed, long legs stretched out, absently petting Miss Fortune who was curled up in a valley between Ada’s legs which were resting in Wesker’s lap.

Normally he would not permit such liberties, but he suspected it was actually a control measure on her part. The more things he had on him that he didn't want to incidentally harm, the less likely he was to shoot across the room to grab the phone.

“Simmons is dead. Sherry is now an adult who, while under contract to the DSO, can make her own choices. Umbrella is gone. You have no more leverage.” Black lines started creeping up Leon's fingers and Wesker sat up, plucking the kitten from its resting place and settling it onto Leon's pillows, removing one obstacle from him clearing the room in the blink of an eye.

“Well, considering I died, I would find the contract nullified!” Leon yelled.

Ada cursed as her legs hit the floor, causing her to almost slide off the bed as she was suddenly unbalanced. Instead she whipped a leg up, landing it behind Wesker's back, using the momentum to lift her other leg into his chest and slide him back against the satin sheets, his own, formerly forward motion causing him to hit the headboard hard. The black kitten took off, deciding under the nightstand was safer.

Leon jerked his attention to the bed, giving them both a look before taking a steading breath. “Adam, I am done with this,”. His time was calmer, more collected, Mold retreating back down his arms. “Please. It's time.”

He was silent for a long moment, listening, resting his face in his hand before reaching out to drain his whiskey in one swallow. “I know, but you have other, great agents. We made sure of that…I made sure of that. We knew I couldn't be your right hand forever, there would come a day when I wasn't coming back - at least this time, we get to say goodbye.”

Leon poured another drink, downing this one as well, still holding the glass as a small smile curled over his lips at whatever the President had said. “Hey. You're still a fucking bastard. Take care of yourself, Adam. I don't have the clearance anymore to go to the White House and kick your ass.”

He set the glass down, trying to steady his suddenly shaking hand. “It was an honor, Mr. President,”

There was a deep silence in the room and Wesker had thought for a moment that the call was over before he heard it, just faintly on the line, three clicks.

The listeners were gone.

“You know. It's going to be a bitch to get someone to delete this “ Leon said and Wesker could hear the deep laugh of President Benford, former head of the DSO and Leon’s oldest friend after the Redfield girl.

“What the fuck are you doing, Leon?“

“Not a God damn clue, Adam. But I can't go back. The BSAA held me for a year with no one having any idea. Outside what I sent you, who the fuck knows what they did to me.”

“This is larger than a national security issue. If we follow this up, Leon this is an international crisis and the US is still dealing with the fallout from Simmons and opening up on bioweapons. To accuse a UN agency of abducting one of our agents for bio-terrorism experimentation-”

“I know, that's why I’m not asking. I’ve done the song and dance before, usually at your behest, may I add. Leave it alone. Unless I have extreme proof, there's no point in kicking that nest.”

Adam was silent for a moment and Leon took a moment to picture the man, sitting at the Resolute desk in the Oval Office. He would be turned to the windows, watching the fading sun and growing twilight over DC…probably loosening his tie, shirt and cuffs already open. It was a sight Leon had seen a thousand nights before as the pair discussed one crisis or another, though the office has changed, from wing to wing, from Nat Sec to DSO to the Vice Presidential offices.

Setting his empty glass down, Leon curled in on himself a touch as if he could shield the phone from the other two in the room, even though he knew damn well Wesker could hear everything the pair were saying. “I’m going to miss this,”

The words were soft, almost a forgotten whisper but they spoke volumes between the two men. Separated by miles and circumstances, but both understanding in an instant, a closeness no other could share.

“I’m going to miss you,” Adam said honestly, his voice thick as he swallowed.

“Na, you’ll find some other pretty face to harass. There's always an up and coming twenty something agent who wants to prove himself,”

Adam laughed in spite of himself, leaning back in his chair, the leathery sound traveling down the phone line and hitting Leon with a wave of nostalgia and homesickness. “None of them can top you,”

“Very few men can, Adam. Not even you.” With that parting shot. Leon hung up, pouring himself another glass of whiskey before tossing the phone over his shoulder, noting that Wesker caught it without issue. “Destroy it.”

There was a crunch, and Leon's last connection to his old life was snuffed out as he drained his glass, leaving the pair alone in his bedroom to contemplate the new information that Leon Kennedy apparently had an emotional affair with a US President.

°°°

“I hated him.”

Ada sat next to Leon on the railing of the ship, watching his face as he gazed out over the water but probably didn't see the slightest bit of it.

“He was the reason I lost Sherry…the start of everything.”. Okay, technically, Umbrella was, but Leon didn't count Racoon City as the start, just a prelude. It was what came after when things kicked off. “I hated him so much…and with Jack, it was easy, I could burn myself out in the fire of his rage. With Chris…well it was Chris.”

Ada snorted, leaning against Leon. They had this discussion before. For all of Claire Redfield’s attempts at matchmaking her best friend and brother the pair were just not compatible outside a few one off encounters to let off steam.

“Adam got the shadows of our job,” he said softly, gently combing his fingers through the silken strands of her hair. “He didn't question what had to be done, just asked that I did it…and he helped me drink when it was over.”

Leon had many unhealthy coping mechanisms, from alcohol to sexual promiscuity to whatever his self harm of the week flavor was, it wasn't a secret but it also was rare that people cared enough to notice. Claire did. Ada did. Adam did

They stopped trying to save him. And instead found ways to mitigate the damage. Healthier self destruction. A slower suicide than going on a mission drunk and driving off a cliff with a BOW riding shotgun.

“Did you love him,”

Leon snorted, brushing his lips over the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her strawberry conditioner that somehow reminded him of both summer sunshine and bloody back alleys at the same time (he probably should stop sniffing her on missions). “I don't have a fucking clue what love is.”

She turned slightly, looking up at him, his arms loosely around her, nose inches from hers from where it had been resting against her head. Had this been a movie, this would be the moment the two leads realized they were in love and kissed dramatically to the swell of an orchestra.

Instead, she raised an eyebrow in silent question and he rolled his eyes. “Romantic love “ he clarified. Because he did know love. Between Claire and Ada he got enough platonic love to drown a man.

Okay, really more from Claire since Ada was the fleeting whisp of a sister in his life he only saw every three to six years, but she tried - like the random postcards and trinkets that found their way into his apartment without warning, becoming an exotic goods treasure hunt when he noticed his alarm code changed.

And he never did find out how she got an onyx statute into a crawl space that didn't exist on any paper trail.

“He was comfortable,” Leon concluded finally. Yes, he and Adam had sex. Yes, he cared for the man. But they weren't lovers in any traditional sense. He hadn't been a partner, waiting at home, someone Leon longed for in the cold of night…Adam was…a comfort. A bad choice that ended up not being so bad. One of the few things Leon had done to hurt himself that didn't end up painful.

So of course, Leon knew he had to throw it away someday…he just didn't expect it to hurt.

---

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Only when my mouth is around a cock “ Leon said, not even paying attention to the words he replied with. He reached around Wesker's shoulders to type something into the computer, red eyes scanning the lines of code so that he missed the reaction of the blind turning to stare at him.

Leon had fallen into an easy rhythm with the other man as they worked on trying to access a backdoor for the BSAA’s European network Leon had remembered hearing about from the DSO’s tech boys that it was almost like working with Helena or Chris again, late into the night, mind moving without thought as it focused on putting as little energy into a task as possible.

“That could be arranged,” Wesker finally replied, removing Leon's hands from his keyboard.

The action finally drew Leon back to the conversation and he blinked a few times, replaying it in his head, trying to put Wesker’s words into context before he looked at the other man who had a smirk on his lips.

“Are you offering?”

“If it will shut you up, Agent Kennedy.”

“It's not exactly my first rodeo, “ Leon muttered, with a loose shrug, pushing Wesker's desk chair back with his foot to create more space between the man and the console before sinking to his knees.

“I doubted it was,” Wesker could remember, vaguely Leon’s name and picture from the list of new recruits floating around the RCP, one of ten new hires straight from the academy. Fresh meat that was desperately needed.

He had attended his swearing in as one of the force’s Captains and had the faintest memory of shaking the kid’s hand…and a fleeting trail of a thought that the smiling, bashful, soon-to-be rookie was going to be eaten alive before other concerns and more important events claimed his mental space, after all, the routine formality of a new hire wasn't exactly notable, he rarely remembered them the next day let alone the next week when they actually started - and how was he supposed to know Leon would go on to be one of the most deadly bio-terrorism agents the US Government had on its roster?

Truly, the only reason he even remembered the young brunette at all was a brief love affair with watching his full lips as the boy worried them between his teeth, skin filling red with blood, flushed and very minutely bruised as he took his oath.

It made for some enjoyable images in his mind, later that night as he worked off stress from an experiment that went sideways.

“Do I want to know where you just went?” Leon asked, drawing Wesker back to where they were and the older man laughed, shifting his hips to allow Leon to push his slacks down his thighs so the zipper wouldn't bother any sensitive flesh.

“I was admiring your mouth and the many ways to silence you.“

Leon rolled his eyes, pulling Wesker’s cock free from his pants, stroking slowly, teasing. “Why does everyone always say that?”

He wrapped his lips around the tip, tongue flicking out to flick tauntingly as his blue eyes rolled up to look into Wesker's, causing the man to hiss through his teeth, a hand sliding up. Pushing Leon's hair from in front of his face, curling behind his ear. The hand then tightened, gripping Leon's jaw as the agent sank fully down on the other man's cock, taking it fully into his mouth and throat, pausing to adjust himself around the intrusion, stealing his breathing through his nose and fighting for a moment against the urge to reject something cutting off his oxygen before adding suction to the mix as his head started to carefully bob. Not pulling too far back so that he could keep as much of Wesker inside of him as possible.

It was rare that Wesker could fully enjoy allowing someone to take control of a situation, but for the moment he was content to allow Leon the lead, enjoying watching the younger man as he worked him over.

He kept running his fingers through Leon’s hair, fingers tightening whenever Leon pulled something intended to tease or intensity the sensations he was providing.

After a long moment of Leon seeming to test how long he could exist on limited oxygen, he pulled off of Wesker, rotating his jaw, needing a breather from having it open that far that long.

To keep things going, he kept stroking the other man, alternating between long, slow jerks that made sure to touch every bit of flesh and quick, rapid tugs that changed direction and speed at a whim.

Red eyes rolled up to meet amber and he leaned up a bit. Kissing Wesker deeply, his tongue teasingly flicking at the other man's lips before biting at the sensitive flesh just as his nails oh so gently brushed the head of Wesker's dick, laughing at the grown. “Knew you’d like it a bit hard,” he purred, licking at Wesker's lips again before sinking back to his kneeling position, eagerly swallowing him down again, never taking his eyes from Wesker's.

Wesker gripped Leon's jaw in a bruising hold, keeping the man still as he pushed into the warm, wet mouth around him.

Leon’s eyes fluttered slightly and he whimpered, swallowing against the intrusion, moaning deep in his throat as Wesker started to more violently fuck his mouth.

He tightened his lips and cheeks around the man, one hand resting on Wesker's thigh to steady himself, the other opening his jeans to pull his own erection free, fisting it in time with Wesker’s thrusts.

Wesker watched as Leon got himself off to the abuse he was clearly doing to the man’s body, deciding it was a topic to think about later, not when he was currently very close to coming into the man’s bruised throat.

Another moan slipped from Leon and Wesker’s hand on his jaw moved to Leon's neck, resting across his windpipe.

There was a flash of teeth, the barest hint and Wesker's hand tightened as he came. The action also tilted Leon over the edge, his cries cut off by the current crushing of his trachea.

Wesker fell back into his chair, trying to steady himself, watching as Leon doubled over, coughing, trying to get air back into his lungs.

Blood and Mold stained the floor from his cough and Leon drew a shaking hand over his lips, smearing it black and red. “Fuck “ he groaned, falling back to sit fully on the floor before laying back, staring at the ceiling.

“Regretting your choice?”. Wesker asked as he zipped his pants, smirking.

“Wondering why the fuck I didn't do that sooner.” Leon lay there for a long moment before shifting, finally tucking himself away. He coughed as he sat up, groaning in disgust as he spit more blood and Mold into the trash. “Pretty sure you fucked something up in there.”

“Given by the sound of your voice and blood, you have bruising and probably a tear, “ Wesker said, turning back to the monitors. “You will heal in a few moments.”

Chapter Text

None of us are virgins, life has screwed us all –Unknown

“So…what now?”

“What do you mean?” Ada asked, looking up from her gun.

“Well, you know I’m not going to jump ship and start working with Wesker of all people outside finding out what the fuck the BSAA is doing with toys they shouldn’t and I’m certainly not going to join you as a merc so…what now?”

Ada lowered her handgun, setting the polishing cloth aside to rest her chin on her hand before shrugging. “That is entirely up to you, Leon. I didn't rescue you to get you to do something, I did it because you needed it. We’ve saved each other enough from the fire to know that occasionally, doing the right thing is payment enough.”

“Okay, but now I'm just your captive instead of theirs?”

“Who's holding you?” Ada asked, curious. “When did I or even Wesker once even lock a door let alone hold you here? Well, outside the biocontainment lockdowns but those are you locking yourself in.”

Leon blinked, his hands stilling on the plastic straw he had been mangling realizing she was right. In the week he had been awake no where he had tried to go had been blocked off except for doors that were locked for safety concerns. Not even the places that would normally be locked for safety such as the armory or labs.

“So I could just get one of the pilots to take me back to shore now?”

“If you want, sure. I would probably wait until morning though,”

“And you wouldn't be going to shore. There isn't land for days,” H.U.N.K. finally said from where he had been observing the pair while cleaning his own gear. “Look, Kennedy, I get we’re not the top of your favorite people list, but maybe stick around and bail after we’ve landed. The only thing getting to and from us out here is the military and I don't think you want to cash in any favors from them just to get out.”

H.U.N.K. stood, holstering his guns. “Not to mention you have the attention of one of the world's top bioweapons brains to figure out what the fuck they pumped you full of before having to face whatever shit comes after you. Better to prepare now then to have some Licker jam it's tongue up your ass because your body decided to hyper vomit.”

With a bid to Ada he headed for the door, pausing next to Leon, resting a gloved hand in his shoulder. “It's been a long time since we were stuck in Racoon City, Kennedy, but the lesson stays, don't fight what you don't have - remember when to run.”. He tossed a silver key card in front of the younger man before leaving, heading to man the security booths before the lab techs did something stupid he would probably have to shoot them for

Leon stiffened at the mention of Racoon City before blinking at Ada. Was everyone in that fucking city?”

She shrugged, grinning. “Maybe we all were and we just kept missing each other…”

“I'm starting to think no one actually died there and they just nuked an empty town.”

They both knew the words were hollow, 100,000 people died in Racoon City, many that both of them knew, though if just by name and reputation. Some they had personally put down and watch die.

But gallows humor, no matter how obscene, was sometimes all you had to keep from screaming.

---

Leon retrieved Silver Ghost from the armory thanks to H.U.N.K. (and he was going to get the story later about where the hell the mercenary had even found it, let alone got ahold of it) before tracking Wesker down to his bedroom, watching the other man do pushups.

“Apparently, I am supposed to learn how the fuck not to keep vomiting up most of my body weight in black mold before I ditch per Doctor H.U.N.K.’s orders.

“It's a side effect of your mutation,” Wesker said, not bothering to look at him. It's a trait shared by the entire line, though you seem to not be continuously speaking biomass, so you are doing better than average and indicates a later series.”

He stopped moving, holding himself up. “According to what information my contacts could give me, only a few successful human trials have actually made it through to be successful enough to be…deployed into actual study with none being field tested yet.”

Wesker rolled to his feet, grabbing a towel from the bed. “Your powers, if any, are hypothetical beyond what we already know. You are an adult and infected with a parasite that is technically what houses your Mold infection, how each of these factors plays…”

“We don't know,” Leon summed up, taking a seat on the bed and falling back against the blankets. So…trial and error until we figure out what I can and can't do and you poke at me until I die or we get answers.”

“Well, I can guarantee you, I won't kill you, for now. But it won't be fun and games. It will however get you what answers you seek. “

“When do we start?”

---

Testing Leon's limits without actually just tearing him open had proven to be slow going. So far, the best technique was simply to push Leon as far and as fast as he could, breaking the other man down physically and mentally so that he was forced to rely on the new abilities rather than his own.

Which is how they found themselves sparring every morning on one of the decks, sun barely coming up over the ocean as they moved around each other, dancing between actually fighting and practicing a new manufacturer that had seemed interesting to learn.

“Could you not lean over me?” Leon asked, not bothering to look up at the very large half naked man who was currently casting a shadow over him, the Tyrant's hands resting just between the curve of Leon's waist and hips as he adjusted the former agent's positioning.

Albert cocked an eyebrow, a smirk playing over his lips. “And just why shouldn't I?”

“Because I am extremely horny right now and the Mold really likes you,”

Albert stilled his motions, a leg between Leon’s where he had been broadening the man’s stance, hands gripping the curve of his hips so not to impede their movement but guide, bare chest close to Leon’s back, heat mixing from where the younger man’s tank top didn't cover his skin…

…And, unnoticed until now, the tendrils of Mold from Leon’s arms and shoulders slowly sliding up over Albert’s hands and forearms, circling and twisting, wrapping themselves in ever binding patterns but never touching…tasting without giving themselves away or triggering Uroboros. He stood, putting a space between them, still bound to the younger by the twisting black tendrils.

Leon closed his eyes, focusing, trying to get the Mold to pull back into himself, fighting against the megamycite’s own desires.

Albert watched as Leon gained the upper hand over his unwelcome body mate and pulled the Mold off of Wesker and back onto Leon himself.

It didn't appear that the tendrils wanted to settle down just yet, instead wrapping around Leon’s torso and hips, sliding in and under clothing until the tops were curled around his neck like a massive vine…waiting.

Whereas Uroborus was a snake, a companion to Wesker, an extension of his own desires, the Mold was another being entirely, one Leon still had little control of despite his bond with the Plagas or the Plagas’ bond with the Mold.

It seemed that being the Master was of no consequence to a fungi if you were not a part of the mycelium…though it did make Albert wonder if the Mold considered Leon part of the Fungal Tooth - or merely the host of.

“Sorry, my brain is constantly alternating between fight or fuck right now - I blame you entirely.” Leon tossed a smirk over his shoulder, before whipping a leg out, a hair's breadth from catching the older man's jaw.

“Me?” Wesker had dashed to the side, snorting as he raised an arm to block another kick, reaching forward to grab the hem of Leon's top only to have it slide through his grasp as he back handspring out of the way.

“You. Your constant training is stressing me out, your arrogant attitude is annoying me, then there is the fact that you have more control than I do,” Leon used Wesker's shoulder to vault himself over the man, wrapping his legs around Wesker's waist as he came down, flipping Wesker through the air.

He tightened his hold against the Tyrant's momentum, then realized that was a really bad idea as he slid across the mat as Wesker landed.

Wesker used Leon’s leg lock around his waist to shift the other man, one leg getting free and dragging Leon under him as he raised above the former agent, his hands on either side of Leon's head, amber eyes growing down at him over the top of his sunglasses.

“And your ass looks really good in those slacks.” With that. Leon hooked his leg around Wesker's hips and thigh, flipping them over so that he was straddling the man’s abdomen.

His hand was on Wesker's throat, Mold encircling the flesh several times while his other arm lay across Wesker’s bare chest, fingers and molded claws already sunk into the flesh but not past bone, stilling the Tyrant's movements.

Leon’s eyes were red tinged with black, mold and shadow flashing from the agent’s skin like smoke from a flame.

The scent of blood was thick in the room, Uroboros trying to close the chest wound around Leon's hand and the molded vines ripping it back open.

“I can't…”

“Breath, Leon,” It was one of the few times Wesker had used his name, voice calm despite the positioning, the danger.

Leon squeezed his eyes shut, tears sliding down his cheeks. “Please…” It was soft, desperate, a drowning man begging for salvation.

Wesker's hand was quick, snapping Leon’s wrist and jerking, Uroboros making a protective shield in the same instant the Mold reacted to kill him. Wesker shoved Leon's arm away, shattering his shoulder, ripping a scream from the younger man as he surged up.

His lips slid over Leon's, silencing the scream, letting out his own gunt of pain as the Mold bit into his wrist and arm, tearing into his flesh, tunneling into his body.

Leon's healthy hand slid up, grabbing the back of his head, pressing them harder together, crying fully as they kissed, mouths opening, tongues meeting to tangle just as the Mold and Uroborus did in and around their bodies, blood dripping from wounds that tore open across their bodies.

Wesker grabbed Leon's hip, pushing him in harder against him as he sat up, grinding up against Leon’s erection, smirking at the gasp he drew from Leon's mouth.

Both hands now buried themselves into Wesker's hair, as if Leon could use his healing limb to fuse them together in ways they weren't already bound by the Mold and Uroborus.

He pulled back, panting, staring into Leon's lust filled red eyes, hissing as the other man slowly rocked their hips together.

“Fuck me.” Leon asked, his nails scratching down the back of Wesker's neck, refusing to look away from that gaze. “Please.”

Wesker nodded and made short work of Leon's shorts, not caring where the scraps of cloth ended up as he fished around in his pockets, finally figuring out where the fuck he had stashed the oil he had been using earlier for another project.

He kissed Leon again, drawing in the other man’s attention as he prepared him carefully, but quickly, drinking in the purring, moaning gasps Leon made.

Too soon…or after too long in Leon’s mind, Wesker shifted Leon, lifting the man slightly before lowering him back down on his lap, drawing out a long, heady moan as he filled the younger man.

“Hurt me “ Leon whispered and Wesker wondered how many of Leon's lovers would have actually given into such a demand before he did as requested. His mouth found the junction of Leon’s neck and shoulder, biting into the flesh, a mockery of the far too many nearly lethal bites Leon had endured in his career, earning the blond a swat, Leon tightening his muscles around Wesker in warning (which didn't actually warn him of anything except perhaps coming quicker).

Wesker wrapped one arm loosely around Leon's hips to stabilize him, the other held tightly in a bruising hold forcing Leon down to meet his every thrust.

Leon whimpered into a kiss, gasping Wesker's name as his body was driven into over and over again. The blood from their tendrils made their skin slick, and Leon's hands easily slid from Wesker's hair to his back, trailing nail marks through the red liquid as he gripped the other man, purring at the feel of Wesker's muscles under flesh.

He started moving his own body, taking more from their union, fucking himself on Wesker's hard cock, using the Mold and Uroborus as resistance against his movements in order to slam his hips against the other man's body

Wesker growled, a low, deep sound and moved down the other man's body, biting down onto Leon's shoulder, blunt teeth piercing his skin, causing Leon to cry out, whimpering as he ground down harder onto Wesker, tightening around him again, this time involuntary.

“Please…God…fuck…” Leon’s nails had sharpened, digging into Wesker's back, tearing through flesh and muscle to cling to him.

Wesker moved the hand that had been stabilizing Leon and gripped his erection instead, the grasp bruising. Any other man would have had severe complications from the touch, but Leon only cried out, bucking up against the vice-like grip, needing more.

“Such a demanding little whore, Wesker whispered in Leon’s ear, biting the flesh of it, giving a tug. His name fell like a prayer from Leon's lips and he rewarded him with a kiss, his tongue curling around the younger man as he gave him what he so desperately wanted.

Enough pain and pleasure to shut down his higher brain and enough endorphins to simply get high and drunk on.

“Please…Wesker…so fucking close…fuck…” Leon was babbling now, his body both rushing for the edge of climax and wearing down, the burn out of his adrenaline starting to lick the edges of his nerves.

Wesker smirked, raising a leg behind Leon, his hand moving from hip to throat, squeezing down as he leaned back into Leon's ear. “Come.”

Leon's eyes shot open from their half lidded state. His body immediately followed the demand as a strangled scream wretched itself from his throat. He heaved, Mold spilling from his lips as he came. Splattering the pair in shades of black and white, mixing with the blood already staining their skin.

It was with that word he realized, in what was left of his rapidly fading rational mind - Wesker somehow had a dominant form of the Plagas.

--

[Ghost] So…what do we have that can block Plagas' transmission to the brain of a fully developed parasite in regards to keeping a host from listening to a dominant command?

[DrHighHope]What…Leon…we don't. Wait, why?

[Ghost] MyparasitefuckmightbeactiveagainandIamincloseproxulimitytoadom.

[DrHighHope] Holy spacebar, Batman. Maybe a neural-transmission blocker? Do you need me to send a team to evac you, because I can send a team…

[Ghost] No! It's fine! Just, send whatever you can. Not BU or BSAA and NOT via them, use TerraSave. Claire knows where to drop it. Rush, please.

[DrHighHope] I can have it dropped on her tonight, depending on when she gets it…

[Ghost] Thanks, Becca. I owe you.

[DrHighHope] I’ll put it on your tab.

--

[GirlSavesWorld] Why did I just get a sudden wake up call by the BSAA landing in my backyard with a delivery for you? This isn't FedEx.

[Ghost] Because you're my bestest friend in the entire world who can get me that package yesterday?

[GirlSavesWorld] Kennedy…

[Ghost] Ouch, coffee is your friend, Claire. Drink some and leave older brother’s heads from being bitten off. Look, it's important. Like vitally, super, I really don't want to become someone else’s slave bitch important.”

[GirlSavesWorld] Fine. I have your ping, give me a bit to scrounge up something. You may have to fish it out of the water though.

[Ghost] That's fine. Might be easier that way. Pretty sure we have anti-aircraft.

[GirlSavesWorld] BTW, Rebecca’s note says it's limited time and she's not sure how long given your anatomy now - best guess is you have two days to GTFO or get her more information.

[Ghost] K

--

Wesker woke with a start, eyes opening, trying to figure out just what, exactly, had disturbed him. He went to lower his arms that had somehow gotten tangled above him and realized they weren't tangled so much as bound.

With Mold.

He sat up as much as his arms would allow, leaning just to the point of dislocation and cocked his head at the now blond man sitting in his chair. “Release me.”

It was a command, Leon could feel it, curling over his mind, poking, urging and he smirked, one leg crossing over the other. “That little party trick only works so many times.”

He drained his whiskey before standing, crossing over to the large bed and climbing into it. Honestly, there was no real way to make climbing into a king size bed sexy or dangerous, but somehow Leon managed it.

Weaker laid back as the younger man crawled over him, straddling his hips. “Would you like to explain?”

“The perk about knowing a fuck ton of science freaks, is they are very good at finding solutions very quickly.” Leon leaned down, his lips just barely brushing over Wesker's. “And I know a lot of people in high places who really don't like the idea of me under your control.”

What he didn't say was that the cure was extremely temporary, Rebecca doing the best she could with what she had, but the effects would last at most two days. He just hoped that those two days were enough to dissuade Wesker from continuing to try to use the control until something more permanent was discovered.

He also didn't mention that the TerraSave kinda knew where they were at the moment, but he figured that was more of a given seeing as how the package had to be delivered to the middle of the fucking ocean and there were only so many people, agencies or governments who could accomplish this.

TerraSave at the moment was a neutral party, the clean up crew after a war, not a combatant. Much like the Red Cross or Crescent, they were the only people H.U.N.K. would allow to land on the ship (without Claire, unfortunately).

“And you felt the need to bind me to tell me this?”

“Oh, no, this was for my fun,” Leon smirked at that, a Cheshire cat grin before he sat back. Long claws extended from his fingers, leaving bloody trails across Wesker's chest as they grew, destroying the thin silk shirt he wore.

He leaned down, licking a long line up the scratches, Amber eyes never leaving Wesker's as he did. “I made sure I have the whole day to enjoy my new toy.” He purred, before finally kissing Wesker.

--

“Becca needs your help,”

“Becca…the little Chambers girl?” Ada said, confused. She set her book aside, uncrossing her legs. “Leon-”

“Yeah, yeah, you don't help, you're not nice, song and dance. Look, you gave Wesker the Plagas he’s now using to control me so now you get to go play errand girl for Doc High Hopes and fix this,” Leon hissed. He knelt in front of her, his hands smoothing nervously over her knees.

“I never gave it to him,” she countered, reaching down, interlocking their fingers, stilling his hands. “What is going on?”

“Wesker, somehow, got a hold of a dominant Plaga. He is using it to control mine. Even the Mold can't stop it. Becca needs new scans and samples and shockingly I have no desire to go running over to the BSAA labs to hand them in.”

He fished one of their conjoined hands into the neck of his shirt, pulling out the necklace she had given him four years ago.

Ada released his hand and gently touched the obsidian and agate beads before grasping the obelisk pendant. It split under her fingers, looking almost shattered and she slipped the back half free, sliding the data disk into the purpose built pocket of her bra. “He will notice,” she said, sliding her own disk free of the charm bracelet on her ankle, reattaching it to his necklace before allowing it to drop under his shirt again. She had little doubts that the pair could keep their hands to themselves long enough for her to get whatever Doctor Chambers needed finished.

“Thank you,” Leon breathed, resting his forehead against her thighs, still clutching her other hand.

Ada combed her fingers through his hair, gently untangling the strands, smiling as he started to relax against her. Leon shifted from his knees to sitting with his legs curled under him, the stress and anxiety slowly leaving as he started to see a path forward that didn't involve him being a puppet to whatever Wesker desired.

He was coming around to putting up with a great deal from the three current constants in his life, but there was only so far even he could be pushed. He wasn't about to allow Wesker to hold a leash on him any more than he would the DSO or BSAA. Not after so many had proven how utterly fucked up of an idea that was.

“You leave in three hours,” he said to her thigh, before turning his head. “I have already arranged the flight and don’t,” he held up a hand as she opened her mouth, ready for her argument. “Half your fee has been paid. It's not a favor.”

He listened to the sounds of her nails as she checked her phone, smirking when her fingers stopped petting, knowing exactly when she saw the balance. “You lot aren't the only ones who have money to throw around, Ada. Being a ghost pays a lot when you only have to worry about how much alcohol you can consume”

Well, that and replacing an unfortunate number of motorcycles.

He sighed heavily, rolling to his feet after a moment. “I should get back. I kind of left him tied up. Literally.”

Ada blinked before shaking her head. “You do realize you can still be killed, yes?”

Leon shot her a smirk, giving a wink. “No one said I make good life choices.”

--

“Fuck,” Leon hissed, gripping the headboard tightly as he sank further down on his knees, watching as he slid deeper into Wesker's mouth. “You look so good wrapped around my cock.”

Wesker was glaring, but ignored the words, his tongue sliding against the flesh in his mouth, sucking hard as Leon started to flex his thighs, eagerly fucking the willing mouth in offer.

“Want to be inside you again.”Leon muttered, his pace slowing as he watched Wesker. His hand moved from the headboard to the wall, slipping himself free of Wesker's slick, pressure reddened lips.

“Tell me. What do you want, tall, dark and glaring?’

“Fuck me,” Wesker growled, drawing his knees up behind Leon who simply smiled and finally, after hour drew the Mold binding the man back into his body.

His eyes closed, hissing as it slid back into him. He hadn't noticed it for most of the day, but it had felt like a piece of him was missing, a piece that he kept tracing back here, to this bed.

Eyes opening, he slid his arms up Wesker's, helping the other man lower them. While any physical damage had repeatedly been repaired by his virus, it still strained his muscles and risked repairing things into the wrong location.

He kissed Wesker hungrily as he took care of his arms, rubbing life back into the veins that had been squeezed off, laughing as his lips were bitten in retaliation.

“You’re hot when you're angry,” Leon whispered, pulling back to look at Wesker, simply enjoying a quiet moment between them before the main event.

Wesker leaned up, gripping his head tightly, kissing the younger man hungrily before biting at his lips again. “Fuck me before I kill you for this stunt, Leon.”

“I’ll just come back,” Leon teased.

“I know.”

“Hard or soft?” Leon asked, leaning back on his calves to pull off his sweater, grinning slightly as he could feel Wesker's eye drinking everything in.

“I doubt you could do anything hard enough,” Wesker taunted, laying back. He found the lubricant from earlier, slicking his hands before drawing his legs up, making sure he was still fully prepared as he wanted while Leon shucked his jeans.

Leon watched him for a moment, red eyes darkening as he took in every movement of his liver before sliding up the bed, kissing Wesker, his hand reaching out to stoke him. “Maybe I should just enjoy you fucking yourself then,” he teased before grabbing the lube, using it on himself.

Sure, he may not have the same super strength the blind did, but he could give good enough to make him scream.

--

“I’m going back to the labs. There were a few more tests I wanted to run,” Wesker said, dressing. “I‘m still annoyed enough with you that anything else will probably result in me snapping your neck.”

He finished buttoning his cuff, turning as Leon snorted from the bed.

“How can we have that many rounds of sex and you still be annoyed?”

“Probably because you're annoying? Stay here, Leon. Or your rooms. I will have dinner in my office.”

“Whatever you say, not my boss,” Leon said with a mocking salute, making himself more comfortable in Wesker's bed, not bothering to get dressed.

“Stay. Here.”

It was a habit. The snapped command given without a thought, both knowing it wouldn't matter with whatever Rebecca had cooked up.

Both felt it when the command snapped into place, locking Leon to that room.

That bed.

Wesker turned his attention fully to Leon, a tear slipping down the younger man's face. “Please,” Leon whispered, looking at Wesker. “Please don't do this.”

Wesker was silent sorry a long moment before turning on his heel, leaving

“Do whatever you want “ he said softly just before the door shut behind him and the command to stay broken, allowing Leon to flee to Ada’s room Where curled into a ball in her bed, shaking and crying softly, hugging his knees tightly under the blankets, waiting for her to return.

Chapter Text

I respectfully decline the invitation to join your hallucination. - Scott Adams

Wesker blinked slowly, awareness coming in stages. He had gone to sleep late, wearing himself past the point of exhaustion running simulations in the labs and the idea of spending hours in his bed finally lured him away from the computer and back into the silken embrace of his sheets, but that had been hours ago.

Now he was just sore, grumpy and wondering why his pillow was wood.

He raised his head, hissing at the harsh overhead lighting piercing his sensitive eyes and glared at the fluorescent enemy from behind his hand before blinking, slowly lowering his hands as his eyes adjusted to the assault.

The ship didn't have florescent lights. It also didn't have the ugly drop ceiling of every office building ever.

Gaze lowering, he blinked slowly, taking in the expanse of what, for all intents and purposes appeared to be his office in S.T.A.R.S. in a city that died well over two decades ago.

He stood, patting himself down as he drank in the room, not a tiny speck out of place since he had left it that hit July night.

Except…there were small things. Things most wouldn't notice.

A picture frame with all of S.T.A.R.S. was disturbed. His drawers weren't shut completely. Dust that should have been in his plaques were missing, a finger having traced over his name.

Lightning and rain sounded outside the office and he shook his head, leaving the past behind as he attempted to figure out just WHY he was here, in his boxers.

Albert Wesker wasn't one for such nightmares.

Stepping out of his office made him realize something was very, very wrong. While his office had been…normal - the rest of S.T.A.R.S. very much wasn't. Blood practically drenched the room, creating an ankle deep puddle. It seemed to be pouring out of Redfield's desk, something he really didn't desire to look too closely at, but his damned able scientist’s curiosity got the better of him and he opened the drawer, a beating heart pumping blood over his legs.

Leaving the office he headed for the balcony ledge, looking at the main floor, looking down at the bodies below him. Cops, civilians, soldiers and agents…people who had been the lifeblood of the city and people who had never heard of Racoon City lay sprawled across its marble floor, staring sightless at the line rookie cop who was kneeling on the RPD seal.

He easily hopped the railing, stepping over the bodies splayed out before him. A hand hovered over Leon’s head, not sure if he should touch the boy or not.

“I’m never quick enough, Leon whispered, bloody tears streaming down from too blue eyes. “Too slow. Too late. Too far behind.”

Leon took one of Claire's hands in his, stroking it. You should have survived all this…”

“She did survive this night, “ Wesker said, pulling his hand back without touching Leon, instead shoving his hands into his pockets.

Leon gasped, dropping Claire’s hand and pulling Matilda in one swift motion, the tremor he had but moments ago steadying out as he rose, eyes icing over.

Leon then blinked, lowering the gun slightly so it was le,ss aimed at Wesker’s head and more his throat. “I know you…”

“I would think so.”

“Your face…Captain Wesker?”

Wesker felt like he had been punched in the gut, the title a visceral thing after all these years, said with such softness and innocence - such hope.

I was. Once upon a time.

Wesker didn't answer, simply studying him. He hadn't realized how young Leon looked when he was twenty-one, all rounded angles and chubby cheeked, the line between childhood and adulthood not fully vanishing yet.

No wonder so many had underestimated him as nothing more than a pretty face when he first started.

“Do you normally point your weapon at commanding officers?” Wesker finally asked dryly and Leon colored, holstering the gun again.

He instead stared at the floor, at the bodies around them, between them. “I really can't save anyone," he whispered, bloody tears leaking from his eyes again. He looked up at Wesker, swallowing thickly. “Please…”

He melted away as Wesker watched, body sinking, puddling into a black pool of Mold that slithered and writhed over itself, growing to consume the bodies around it before stretching for Wesker, clinging to him, swallowing him piece by piece into darkness.

--

Please…

It was something Wesker had heard many times from Leon’s lips…usually in the form of him begging for harder, faster and more. But he had also heard it as a request, a taunt…a whispered plea from an older tear stained face.

The darkness that had consumed them both was lifting, tiny pieces pierced by light and sound. Wesker could hear the meeting of flesh against flesh, hurried, squick slaps met with breathy moans.

Wesker blinked at the sounds, curious inspite of himself. He knew those sighs and whimpers - he spent quite a bit of time enjoying seeing how many of them he could draw from a bothersome agent who couldn't keep his mouth shut.

The darkness fell, treating Wesker to the truly beautiful sight of the young rookie bent over a desk in the S.T.A.R.S. office, uniform completely undone as he was apparently completely ravaged by one Chris Redfield…

Wesker paused as he took in the scene, realizing what, exactly, had hit him as off about the scene beyond the mere existence of these two in a perfectly normal RPD office, a place they had never been.

There was an Umbrella logo on Chris' arm instead of the B.S.A.A. globe.

“Well now, isn't this a surprise?” He drawled, leaning against the door frame.

“Captain, just enjoying my break,” Chris said cheerily, not bothering to slow or even pause in his thrusts. Leon gave a soft whimper and one of Chris’ gloved hands slid from his hip to the younger man's mouth, two fingers slipping in to silence him. “Care to join? I’m sure we can find a better use for this little bitch’s throat than his whining.”

Wesker pushed off the door and Crossed pulled himself from the younger brunette, taking a seat.

“Please…I…”Leon said, looking up at them.

“Oh shut up, you stupid little whore, no one actually wants to hear you,” Chris said, jerking Leon back onto his lap. He shifted the other man’s hips, lining himself back up before pulling Leon back down hard to him.

Leon whimpered, eyes watching Wesker's approach, begging silently.

Wesker slid his thumb over Leon’s swollen red lips, groaning as the boy opened his mouth, tongue flicking out against the digit before Leon pulled the tip into his mouth, sucking on it as Chris gripped his hips in a bruising grip, drawing Leon’s hips down hard to meet his thrusts.

Wesker pushed down his pants, freeing himself from them. He stroked in time with Leon’s sucking, never taking his eyes off the other man as he slid his thumb free, replacing it with his hard cock.

Leon gave a whimpery moan, bouncing harder on Chris as he sucked, gasping as Chris pulled his arms back, binding him with his grip.

“Knew a cock slut like you would need another hole filled,” Chris grunted. “Just can't be satisfied with one.”

Wesker tuned out Chris taunting the officer in his lap, even as a part of him filed the words away. Instead, focusing on the slow slide between the wet lips, tear stained blue eyes watching him as Leon sucked and lapped at the erection in his mouth, the feel of his moans vibrating over Wesker's skin as Chris drove into him

He would easily confess to having enjoyed many fantasies about something like this through the years - it was hard to completely ignore that some of his more ardent followers were some of the most unfortunately attractive people on the planet, but this wasn't his fantasy at the moment, and indulging himself in someone else's fetishistic nightmare probably would give psychoanalysts a field day.

But then again, they didn't have to face Leon Kennedy’s pouting red lips or Chris Redfield's naked cock.

Leon pulled off of Wesker, giving a whimpered mewl, a sound the blond smirked at, kissing the younger man for. The older version of him often bit back that sound, hiding it, one of the few he only made when extremely close to release and Wesker savored every time he got to hear it

Leon came with a cry into his mouth, spilling between them, Chris still driving the boy down hard into him.

Leon pulled back from the kiss, gasping Chris' name. Mold spilling from his lips as Chris shoved a hand through Leon’s back, jerking the younger man’s heart and quite a bit of other organs out as he came within him

“Please…save me…” Leon whispered as darkness consumed them

--

“Such a pretty little thing…”

Wesker turned, the darkness giving away to the rain soaked streets of Racoon City. A blind man was kneeling next to Leon's broken, crumpled body. “He’s so easy to tear apart and so beautiful when he cries.”

Black clawed fingers swirled in Leon's blood, drawing it to the man’s lips as he stood.

A red tongue darted out, licking each claw clean as red eyes locked onto Amber, an all too familiar smirk playing on the man’s lips.

Smoke and Mold rose from the man’s shoulders and back in whisps, fading and solidifying as it went. Except they weren't exactly wisps any more. What Wesker had always seen in his waking world as barely there whispers of something not fully actualized were finally put into form.

Thousands of tiny little months. No bigger than a speck of paper ash were flying behind him, floating in their own, inescapable whirl, creating an almost ghostly pair of wings behind him.

“You really shouldn't break your toys before they outlive their usefulness,” Wesker finally said as the Plagas stopped in front of him.

He ignored the tendrils of Mold that slid from the parasite, sliding up and around his body, curling and twining around every inch of him as it seemed to taste and explore.

“But he’s such a precious little lamb to watch bleed…”

One of Wesker’s hands went out, brushing blood from the Plagas' stolen lips. “And when he can't be put back together again?”

“We will find a new lamb. We will feast. God's have hundreds of lambs,“

“You are no God.”

“Nor are you, Uroborus - and still you play.”. The Plagas pressed up against him, mouth hungry, consuming. “Be Gods with us. We can feast on all the little lost lambs, ripe for slaughter…”

Wesker’s hand slid up to rest on Plagas' throat as he kissed him before spinning the other man around, their bodies pressed tightly together.

Wesker kept a strangling hold on the parasite’s neck as he pressed the man’s back against his chest, placing hot, open mouthed kisses against his shoulder before biting down hard, blood spilling over pale flesh.

The parasite cried out, struggling against the hold on his neck, gagging, and the broken, bloody body of Leon stirred, whimpering.

“Wake up, kitten. I am tired of this.” Wesker demanded, voice firm, order clear

--

Leon gasped awake in bed, tears staining his face. He coughed, violently and a trashcan was suddenly shoved into his chest just as he started vomiting blood and Mold.

Wesker held the can as Leon continued to retch, tired eyes watching the man. As the action stopped and Leon collapsed back into his bed, Wesker studied him before turning his attention away, setting the can aside.

“Do you often have nightmares?”

Leon stilled, staring at the wall, silent for so long Wesker assumed he wasn't going to reply before finally, “Every night unless I pass out.”

Wesker made a noise in his throat, laying back against the headboard, his hands behind his head. “Should I even ask?”

“What do you think they're about, I go to work naked,” Leon lied easily.

“Somehow I think you wouldn't find that terrifying,” Wesker said dryly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you would find a way to do that intentionally.”

“Only to the office - not a fucking chance would I take on a B.O.W. in the nude.”

Wesker raised an eyebrow at him and Leon had the manners to blush.

“Okay, one I wasn't fucking,” he corrected.

Silence fell again and Wesker waited until Leon’s breathing was evening out, the other man closer to falling asleep. “How long have you been in love with Chris Redfield?”

He smirked as Leon fell off the bed.

--

“I’m not in love with him,” Leon muttered, more to his coffee than Wesker.

The pair had tabled the conversation until one, Leon had untangled himself from his love affair with the floor and two, they were safely in the lab so Wesker could run some tests he had needed (well, Leon hadn't exactly wanted to be safely in the lab, he wanted to be back asleep, but that didn't appear to be happening).

“So you normally dream about being fucked and murdered by people you don't care for?”

“I frequently dream about you,” Leon said, sipping his coffee and looking up at Wesker.

“We're sexually attracted to each other,” Wesker said, looking far too smug.

Leon snorted. “Don't praise yourself too much there, old man and I meant before…this. But no, Wes, I’m not in love with him.” He held up his hand when Wesker opened his mouth and smirked as it snapped shut.

“I was, at one point. Or could have easily been. But that was a long time ago and that ship has long since sailed. Whatever vestiges remain are just my subconscious dragging out old images to taunt me with…same as the desecrated corpses of every one I love. Same as I am eternally stuck in that God forsaken hell. The real question, however, is how the fuck you know what I was dreaming.”

---

Albert Wesker being able to guess at what kept Leon awake at night was terrifying in its own right.

The idea of him being able to read Leon’s mind more so.

But there were no answers for what had happened and it left Leon on edge, pacing his cabin. They hadn't even been some of the worst of his nightmares, these were a damn near picnic compared to the nights he held Sherry’s broken body in his arms or watched Ada gurgle his name as he slit her throat, but apparently the sight of a Chris Redfield had things gone a different route put Wesker's hackles up.

It was probably just that Leon got a taste of something that Wesker never had the chance to - though if he had justed asked, Leon would happily have told him that Chris was far too straight to bother with, fuck he was still tempted to give Niven's a dildo for Christmas so the kid could finally have a decent orgasm because he knew Chris sure as fuck wasn't providing.

Leon was aware it was a catty thought, he was also aware that Chris Redfield was shit in bed (at least when it came to men) and still mildly bitter so he figured it evened out.

But Redfield's skills in the bedroom or lack there of did little to solve the current dilemma of Albert fucking Wesker being in his head.

Groaning as he finished his fifteenth lap around the cabin he landed face first into his bed, startling Miss Fortune awake who swatted at him before she hopped off in a huff to go find less overly dramatic humans.

---

“I wish to test something,”

“This is going to hurt, isn't it?” Leon said, huffing as he took a seat on the bed in Wesker's lab.

“And what made you draw that conclusion?”

“Because every time you say that, it hurts, “ Leon pointed out before pushing up the sleeves of the sweater he had stolen from Wesker. “Alright, hit me.”

Wesker pondered for a moment, hand hovering for a moment before he moved, faster than Leon could actually track in the small room, a scalpel sticking out of the younger man’s arm.

“Okay, owe,” Leon pulled it free, frowning as he watched the wound seal itself. “Explain?”

“Your mold didn't block it and you didn't move. You couldn't react.”

“I have to recognize a threat to react to it, Wesker,” He flipped the scalpel in his hand, before throwing it back, not actually intending to hurt and thus not surprised when it was deflected with an Uroborus tentacle while Wesker took a sip of his coffee.

“You were also slower to heal than I am. I wish to test something more…intense. But I am unsure of how well you can withstand the pain.”

Leon blinked, before shrugging. “So far we've seen I can withstand quite a bit.”

“I will give you a nerve blocker first, but there is only so much it can do.”

Leon was silent for a moment, staring at Wesker. Long fingers gripped the edge of the table, feet kicking slightly in clear anxiety before he sighed, shoving his bangs out of his face, nodding. “Alright, I’ll trust you.”

The words were soft, barely there, but hung between them as the pair took measure of the other.

Not an “I trust you” but “will trust you”. For this moment, Leon was putting his faith in a man that could easily and demonstratively overpower him.

Wesker prepared the block, laying Leon on his back after the man removed his sweater, leaning over him to inject it into several places in his lower abdomen.

“What exactly are you going to do, stomach surgery?” Leon asked, hissing slightly as the medication went in.

“Something like that,”Wesker stepped back, tossing out the syringe. I will be back in a few minutes. Just relax.”

Leon liked pain. It wasn't exactly a secret. He liked a great deal of pain and had spent many years sublimating most pain into pleasure and arousal.

It was easier, in his line of work, to be horny than about to pass out.

But there was a limit to how far he could trick his brain - how much even he could handle.

The nerve blocker had done wonders for quite a lot of the task of Wesker cutting open his abdomen, leaving Leon so sit up slightly, watching with mild fascination as his insides became temporarily his outsides - but once the muscle layer had been pulled back, the limit had been reached and Wesker halted his work, deciding that enough was accomplished as Leon lay on the table, shivering slightly, giving aborted twitches every now and then from a sudden shock up his nerves that broke through his focus.

A timer was running silently, resting just above the open cavity, in view of a camera Wesker had set up. There was a frown on the man's lips, fingers gently touching the wound every so often, being careful of any area that seemed not to be controlled by the blocker.

“You can sit up now, if you think you can manage it…or I can move the monitor.” Wesker said finally.

“Wait, wouldn't that just…I’m still wide open.”Leon was more than a little confused, looking up at Wesker. Yes, most of the pain had faded, but he still felt the cold, wet draft of what seemed to be his organs just waving around in the sterile lab air

“Not quite,”. With that, Wesker wheeled the monitor from the camera closer so that Leon could see the fine mesh weave of Mold around the open stomach wound, laying like a skin graft over him. “While your Progenitor gives you nowhere near my recovery rate, it is healing you. Faster than average. The Mold appears to also aid in your recovery, though in a far different manner. It appears, most of the virus was used up bringing the Plagas' back to life, which is why I had such difficulty stabilizing and retarding its growth when you woke up.”

As they watched, Leon's body healed, taking in hours what would take months. Honestly, it would be days before he was anywhere near back to normal, blood, muscle and deep tissue needing to replenish from burnt out stock.

---

“Please tell me this isn't permanent…” Leon said, gesturing to the Mold on his stomach with his chopsticks.

They were currently now in Leon's bedroom, having moved there once the abdominal muscles sealed and the younger man could walk without feeling like he was sloshing around.

“That, I do not know. The Mold appears to have its own mind.” Wesker was silent for a moment, staring at a painting of a girl watching a swaying willow tree.

Next to him, Leon teased Miss Fortune with a piece of chicken, getting her to try to bat it out of his chopsticks before she could eat it

“Thank you, for allowing me such luxuries with your body today,” Wesker finally said. “I am aware being a guinea pig is not a pleasurable tune.”

Leon looked at him, pausing mid bite. He finished the action, swallowing the food and snarky comment that he had been tempted to say before taking a chance. He set aside his food (and removed Miss Fortune from diving head first I to his plate), leaned over to remove Wesker's sunglasses before leaning in and kissing the other man.

It was a soft, slow kiss. Teasing and gentle, nothing like any of the few they had shared before. “Thank you for being honest,” He whispered against Wesker's lips, smiling.

He was tired of people lying to him to get what they wanted instead of just asking.

---

“Do you trust me?”

They were sitting in Wesker's private lab, large glass walls fogged to keep outside interests outside. H.U.N.K. was at the door, turning away anyone who ventured near.

A tray of serums and bottles was in front of Wesker, lined up in perfect little rows, each labeled in the blond's meticulous script.

Do you trust me?

They have spent three months together. Trapped on a ship with no way out and no break. Three months of being a thorn in the other’s side, of being lab rats and training dummies, trying to figure out just what the fuck was actually done to Leon besides the obvious. Of being livers and partners in crime trying to worm their way into the BSAA’s secrets, of Leon being Wesker’s right hand more often than he really should have.

And yet…

Do you trust me?

He had to beg for his friends' lives. Arrange devil’s bargains to keep them alive. A “no go” list of conditions that played with humanity in the balance and it was too often a cost of a billion for seven people - seven people who it seemed, kept trying to do their damnedest to get murdered in what was seriously less than a year (why couldn't they just leave things alone?!)

Do you trust me?

“No,” but Leon slid his arm out anyway, red eyes locked onto Amber. He would never trust Albert Wesker. He would be a fool to do so.

But he wouldn't walk away. Not yet.

And the man was nothing, if not a genius.

Wesker nodded, drawing up the first serum. “I am sorry,” he said simply as he slid the needle into Leon’s arm and Leon screamed, fire racing through his veins.

---

Leon gasped as he woke up, shooting up in bed. He coughed violently, retching, blood spilling from his lips. It was dark, almost rust colored, indicating whatever had been bleeding had long stopped.

But it was one of the first times Leon had vomited anything without the Mold accompanying it.

He groaned, laying back and staring at his cealing, blinking for several moments at the large water stain that looked like a rabbit fucking a kangaroo.

…neither Wesker's nor his ceiling had that stain.

His apartment in D.C. however, had that stain.

Jerking upright, he stared at the apartment around him in alarm before scrambling from the bed, grabbing his gun from the nightstand and tearing into the living room.

Everything was exactly as it was, the last moment he had seen it. Spotless and perfect, not even a stray sock out of place or a dust bunny to show the passage of time.

He would have expected the last almost year and a half to be a dream, except the gun in his hand wasn't Silver Ghost or Matilda…but Wesker's Samurai Edge, the gun he had stuck in his back holster before going down to play lab rats after he had found it sitting in the armory, maintained but unused.

No Kendo should just be a display piece after all.

He flicked the safety back onto said gun before sliding it into the waist of his pajama pants, yawning as he passed into the kitchen.

Poking through the cupboards revealed that someone had gone through them, refreshing his dry goods to rid them of anything expired and replace it. Opening a fresh bag of coffee he tossed several scoops into the machine, allowing it to do its godly work as he wondered how and more importantly why it appeared he was returned.

He hadn't made it a secret he detested Wesker's work, but it also was clear that he had no desire to return to the old life he walked away from. He was still learning to control the more dangerous aspects of the inflected Plagas and they had no idea if the Mold would mutate outside controlled conditions.

It wasn't safe to leave him too far out of H.U.N.K. or Wesker’s reach, which begged the question if the pair were in the states with him. And if so, why were they not together? He and Wesker had fucked each other up enough to heal damn near anything with time (though they seemed to stop short of any major lasting physical trauma, heart squeezing episodes aside) and H.U.N.K. seemed to be fucking immune to everything so it couldn't be that he was contagious.

Leon worried at his lower lip, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Too many questions and no clear directions let alone answers were starting to give him a migraine.

He raised the mug for a sip, his eyes resting on his reflection in the silver steel of his microwave as he did.

The coffee burned his feet as the mug slid from his grasp, shattering across the kitchen floor, blue eyes staring back at him in shock from his reflection.

Chapter Text

Don't say it doesn't matter, matter anymore
I can go with the flow
Do you believe it in your head?
It's so safe to play along - “Go With the Flow”, Queens of the Stone Age

“What do you mean, ‘It’s gone’?”

“Exactly what it says on the tin,” Rebecca said, tossing her gloves in the wastebasket before stepping off the lever and turning back to the light board. “The Plagas you were infected with is gone. As is the Mold the BSAA infected it with. All you have left is the Progenitor Virus and most of that was burnt out reanimating the Plagas.”

She studied one of the many readouts before handing it to him, circling a number. Because you're no longer in contact with a host’s body fluids, your baseline numbers are stagnate, and extremely low. At most you have a limited healing upgrade to a normal human.”

“So that's why…

“Hmm?”

“I’ve spent all this time wondering why he brought me back here - he got what he wanted. A live Mold infested Plagas and had no more use for the host.” Leon snorted, something flashing in his eyes before being buried, hidden under the walls he had built around himself. “I guess at least I should be grateful he allowed me to live, considering.”

“Considering you know where they are, what they're doing and that he’s alive.” Rebecca stated, leaning against a counter. “He may not have thought you would survive the operation. Even with an increased viral load from being in close contact with him, it's not an easy thing to heal from, that's why it wasn't removed the first time. He was taking away your main healing enhancement, relying only on a virus that didn't turn you into a super weapon.”

“Which, why didn't it? I thought the Progenitor Virus only had two paths. Death or Wesker.”

Rebecca shook her head. “We don't know enough about the virus or what the hell was going on with Spencer and his…plans, but Wesker wasn't the only one to survive the trial, he was just the best suited to the virus. It isn't a cure all and even then, he had to have a stabilizer before Uroborus.”

She paused, tapping her chin in thought. “I wonder…”

“Wonder…”

“Well, Wesker didn't have these powers until he died at Arklay. He was my boss, we weren't close, being on Beta team, but I did know him and even with the glasses, his eyes were blue. He was as human as you and I…”

“So what changed?” Leon asked, curious. He knew that Rebecca, Chris and Jill had all worked directly under Wesker, but never really pried into that beyond looking at their files as he didn't want to cause them more pain than was necessary.

Some stories, he knew, still hurt to discuss.

“He was killed. A Tyrant punched a hole through him, according to Chris.”

“Okay, let's make that Plan Never,” Leon said.

Rebecca smiled as she watched him run his hand over his chest. “I was thinking more about the serum. Obviously, the virus did its part and brought him back, it's what its main design is. But there's something about it that is off. The subject is unbalanced -not in that way. Leon-”

“You weren't even looking at me!,”

“I know you. If we could get a sample of the serum, we may be able to find a way to give you a boost, if you wanted. I don't think another dosage of the full virus would help - not that I would be allowed access anyway, but maybe something to get you more to where the virus is a bit more ramped up and you don't feel like you're coming off a twenty-year bender.”

“I would…appreciate it. To be honest, I got used to being enhanced that now…I feel utterly broken. Like a part of me is missing.”

“Is it your power or the man who took them?”

“Rebecca Chambers!” Leon said, mock scandalized.

“I have eyes, Leon. Albert Wesker was a very good looking man and you aren't a blushing virgin. When I said bodily fluids, I wasn't referring to blood, though I hope you spilled some of that.”

She pushed off the counter, heading to the bed he was in to turn on the blood pressure cuff, grinning. “Settle a long standing S.T.A.R.S. bet, he any good?”

Leon smirked. “Incredible.”

“Jill owes me $40 bucks. Lay back. I got your screening back, by the way. With the virus it should probably be your last one. You are clear.”

Leon gave a cheer, upsetting the blood pressure cuff and earning a playful swat from Rebecca.

“That is not free reign to sleep with every man, woman or B.O.W. you come across.”

“I have never once fucked a B.O.W.”

Rebecca cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow. “One Wesker, Albert is classified as a B.O.W. Tyrant class,” she reminded him, laughing.

“True…” he trailed off for a moment before grinding. “At least he's not one of the squishy ones.”

“No, from what I hear he's still very, very hard and chiseled…”

“Rebecca!”

---

[Ghost] I need ATF to clear me to get a gun faster than seven now that my DSO clearance is revoked, my side arm is AFK.

[Boss Mommy] You’ll have to talk with Eagle about that. Above my pay grade. Wait, weren't you off with Magpie? She has both hers and Mastermind’s arsenal since his death.

[Ghost] Got dropped off at base for some reason, have *a* weapon, but I need another. I feel like I have eyes.

[Boss Mommy] I’ll hit up Eagle, check if Brian knows anything.

[Ghost] Last Q, why is my gun locker empty?

[Boss Mommy] You were KIA, your belongings went to your heir. Ask Princess Peach.

--

[Ghost] You wouldn't happen to know what a guy could do to get a gun without waiting around, would you?

[The Armor] Never took your name off the “sell to now” list, being as you were dead. When you weren't…I think it slipped my mind.

[Ghost] You’re an angel.

[The Armor]. Mm. You owe me. Actually, I have a few things you might like. Give me a bit to have them brought up and then swing by. If you like them, just send the money to my account whenever.

[Ghost] I would kiss you if you didn't taste like ass.

[The Armor] Please don't, I know where your mouth has been. I have no desire for second hand Redfield cock.

[Ghost] That was years ago.

[The Armor]. Yes, which just proves how long the stain lasts. Poor choices, Ghost, poor choices. Give me five.

[Ghost] Good, that should give me more time to sleep. Fucking jet lag. I don't know how many times zones we crossed but I’m pretty sure it was enough to scramble my brain

[The Armor] Pretty sure that's all your drinking and slamming your head into shit.

--

[Ghost] In town, not sure how long, dinner?

[Princess Peach] Sure! Usual?

[Ghost] Come by the apartment, we need to talk. Use mosquito spray, the area is lousy for them right now.

[Princess Peach] Will do. See you tonight, dad.

[Ghost] BTW, Where are my guns?

[Princess Peach] I’ll bring them tonight…well. Most. The rifles are at HQ

---

“You know, security in this place is shit “ Leon said, watching the man who entered the room from under his bangs.

President Adam Benford, if ever asked about it later, would deny all knowledge of how a vase launched itself across a room and almost into the head of Leon Kennedy. He would also deny any knowledge of whether or not he screamed like a small child.

It was one of the extremely rare moments in a President’s life when they were alone with nothing to do. No international crisis, no Congress officials screaming, the news was actually quiet for a late Friday afternoon with no headlines dropping hoping to hide over the weekend.

He had been looking forward to a nap in one of the couches and maybe a chance to poke social media before a dinner meeting with some Senators, but instead, found his office invaded by the world's most annoying man.

“Do I even want to know?”

Leon spun around slowly in the chair, smirking. “Part of getting wherever you want, is merely acting like you belong - enough people knew me well enough to know I am allowed here, but not enough knew me well enough to realize I shouldn't be “

“Out “ Adam said with a gesture and Leon relinquished the chair, sitting on the desk instead.

“I need a favor.”

“How very demanding of you, after you break into my office,” he rested a hand on Leon’s knee, absently rubbing it with his thumb. “What do you need?”

“A job. The DSO apparently has a stick up their ass regarding the whole ‘kidnapping, experimented on and then hiding away with a known bioterrorist’ thing.”

“Well, I will back them in the Wesker point, that was an extremely stupid idea, Leon.”

“It wasn't my choice,” Leon muttered, running a hand through his hair. “He was the best option to figuring out anything that didn't involve being locked in someone's lab and it's not like I would have just allowed him to be a terrorist while I was looking over his shoulder.”

“No, just trade in black market B.O.W.’s and bioweapons, things which cause terror.”

“I am but one man. It's not like I could spill soda on his console and stop all deals,” Leon muttered, knowing he had to pick his battles.

He had followed up on enough of the deals Wesker had made in the past four months to give him fresh nightmares for years as it was

“Why do you want a job anyway, I thought you retired,’

“I am going stir crazy. I literally have nothing to do besides drink and stare at the cat and even she is sick of me.”

“When did you get a new cat?”

“Sherry got her for me as it Wesker or Ada seems to have stolen the one they got for me.”

“Why on…you know what, I’m just going to leave that there. Let me see what I can do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Adam,” Leon said, drawing his former lover into a gentle kiss.

--

Same routine, different title.

Adam had never really had a need for a body man, finding it easy to get by with his aides, secretaries and secret service but it was easy to put Leon in the vacant position, his clearances reinstated and security easily updated with a few button presses. The harder part was turning the bar next to the Oval Office into an actual usable space. It was small, barely large enough for Leon’s desk, chair and if one stood very carefully, two extra chairs (mostly because they took out a wall from the powder room), but it was usable and Leon didn’t need that much space to play assistant slash bodyguard slash personal minder.

It was also easier that most of Leon and thus Adam’s schedule was actually kept by one Ingrid Hunnington of the DSO pulling a double duty as Leon’s private minder off the books, making sure the other man knew what the hell he was doing (and usually what they were supposed to be doing).

And so, it was in this routine that Leon found himself leaning against his desk, far too into their personal space of one Chris Redfield in the too small office, grateful for the air conditioner running silently as they stared at each other.

Chris Redfield was in his office as an official B.S.A.A representative and not as his friend which put everything Leon had on edge. He knew Chris wasn't responsible for what had been done to him, that Chris would never even THINK about what the B S.A.A. had done, let alone sign off on it, but that didn't change what was done nor that Chris was there.

“Why on Earth are you working in this God forsaken closet instead of the DSO properly?” Chris asked for a third time, finally managing to shift his bulk to a more comfortable position for both, even if it did leave Leon practically straddling the man's thigh as he sat on the edge of his desk.

“Because I don't work for the DSO. I was deemed a safety risk.” Leon pointed out, sipping his coffee.

“For being infected? Fuck if that was a problem none of us would have jobs. We've all been infected. Hell, look at Alcatraz.”

Leon snorted at that, a small smile on his lips. There wasn’t a chance he was going to forget the moment when the great Chris Redfield finally lost his reputation as being the only one of them who had never had the…pleasure of facing imminent death at the very virus, parasites and other assorted biologicals they fought.

“It wasn’t for being infected,” he corrected, running a hand through his hair. “It was for being in Albert Wesker’s company while infected with an unknown biological. They are assuming I am compromised.”

Which he wasn’t. Fucking Wesker had not compromised him any more than any other relationship he had. Leon would still easily (and some days happily) pull the trigger on the man if required to do so, but apparently upper brass had issues with sleeping with the enemy, despite the fact he had been used on honey pot missions before and done exactly that.

“Wait…what?” Chris was standing now, trapping Leon against his desk, brown eyes flashing. “You were what?!”

“Did…no one tell you?” Leon asked, a curl of fear licking up his spine. He wasn’t afraid of Chris, not really, but the rage before him...he would be stupid not to recognize that there was danger in it. “I would have thought Becca or Claire…”

But no, because had they done that, Chris would have been there almost immediately to ‘rescue’ him no matter what Leon wanted from the situation.

“They didn’t tell me he was alive let alone that you were trapped with him,” Chris hissed. His hand reached up, cupping Leon’s jaw. “Are you..”

Leon turned into the touch before realizing what he was doing and jerked away. “I’m fine, Chris. I wasn’t trapped, I chose to be there.”

“Chose?”

“Chose.” Leon groaned, tilting his head back. “Look, this isn’t something you’re going to understand…your history with him, I get it, trust me, I do, but I don’t have that history. What I know is on that ship and a stack of documents that every agent learns. The man I know isn’t the man you know.”

“He’s a mass murdering eugenics terrorist, how the fuck are they different?”

Leon tilted his head, looking at Chris. “I really don’t think you want that answer, Redfield.”

“Jesus Christ, Leon. Is there anyone you won’t spread your legs for?”

“Oh get off your fucking high horse, Chris. Not all of us get to be superboy out to save the world. Some of us just get to be human. He was helping me get a handle on what the fuck the B.S.A.A. did to me, what your organization did to me.

“Wha…wait…”

“Fuck, they really didn’t tell you a fucking thing, did they?” Leon groaned. “I was found in a B.S.A.A. laboratory, Chris. I was turned into a bioweapon by your organization. Kidnapped and experimented on then sealed away to be forgotten about. And I thought the DSO: had a fucked up way of playing with it’s toys.”

“You’re not a toy, Leon and why the fuck would the B.S.A.A. do that?”

“For fun? For the hell of it? Because I’m the only person who had an original Plagas sample that wasn’t surrounded by constant security? Because I’m one of the mostly deadly agents in the world and it took me off the board for whatever the fuck their doing with their B.O.W. program?”

“We don’t have a B.O.W. program.”

“That you know of and clearly you don’t know everything. You didn’t even know Wes was still alive, stashed in the same storage room as me. Instead, they let you exist as the hero who saved the world from his evil while they kept him in stasis for whatever fucked up reasons and I doubt it was because he’s pretty to look at.”

“I…need to go.”

Leon snorted. “Yeah, of course.” he shifted his legs so Chris could move, waiting until Chris’ hand was on the door knob before speaking again. “I’m getting really sick of watching you walk away from me.”

Chris froze, staring at the wood grain of the door. “I wasn’t the one who walked away last time, Leon.”

“No, but you didn’t stop me either.”

“I can’t.”

“You won’t. Just be honest, Chris - at least you could have given me that. Fuck, you didn’t even give the kid that. Did you ever tell him about us before he found out at my fucking funneral? Or did you just hope it would never come up?”

Chris spun around, pinning Leon to the wall, his hand around Leon’s throat, mouth pressing hard against the other man’s. Leon’s eyes fluttered closed, body pressed up against the wall of muscle and skin pressing against him as his mouth fell open to Chris, a small gasp escaping as Chris surgered against him, pushing his tongue into the hot mouth beneath his. After a moment, the hand almost strangling Leon slid down, gripping his shirt as Chris pulled back, staring down into Leon’s eyes.

“Why do you always kiss me to shut me up?” Leon asked, biting at Chris’ lower lip.

“Why does it always work?” Chris backed away as he released Leon. “I need to go, before I do something we’ll regret.”

“I have never regretted anything, Chris, that was alway you.”

“Leon…” Chris said, brushing his thumb over the other man’s cheek.

“Go.”

Chris took a breath before forcing himself back from Leon and out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Leon slid to the ground, clinging to his thighs, nails digging into his pants, forcing back the emotions that wanted to consume him. He started rhythmically banging his head against the wall, focusing more on the pain slowly growing from the action, then the emotional pain causing tears to spike his eyelashes, running down his cheeks.

--

“It’s dead,” Ada said, staring at the black vined parasite in a tank sitting on Wesker’s desk. She poked at the glass, before looking up at the blond. “I thought you wanted to study it, wasn’t that why you removed it?”

“I don’t need it alive to study it,” Wesker said coolly. “It has no reason to remain alive.”

The Plagas being alive would be a risk…hell, being dead it was a risk as the past year had proven. But she was correct that he had wanted to look more into the sample now that he had access to it and there was little hope of the B.S.A.A. snatching it while in his private office on an uncharted island.

“He seems to have recovered fine, not that you asked.”

“I didn’t.”

“He’s back to work at the White House under President Benford,” she ignored Wesker’s snort at her phrasing. “And apparently back to drinking, random sexual hook ups, oh and he refilled a bottle of pain pills that was never prescribed to him for the third time.”

Wesker blinked, looking up at her. “He what?”

“Yeah. Which is interesting given that he’s still infected with the Progenitor virus, which should minimize any pain he feels, shouldn’t it.”

“Yes.”

“So like I said, back to normal. Completely fucked up and self harming in whatever fashion he can get ahold of.”

“He didn’t display any of these behaviors with us.”

“Gee, I wonder why…” Ada said as she left his office, slamming the door behind her.

Wesker leaned back in his chair, staring at the parasite tank.

---

[UNKNOWN] I see you are settling in.

Leon blinked at the message, staring at his phone. He reached over to his computer to text Hannigan only to realize that magically…he couldn't get ahold of her despite her office literally being only a few floors away.

Checking his internet proved it wasn't some bizarre outage, but instead, the White House comms being down on his floor. Something that shouldn't have been possible.

[Ghost] Perhaps…

He wheeled silently across the office with a powerful kick against his desk, tilting his head around the door between his and Adam’s offices.

The President glanced at him, shaking his head before returning to the conversation he was having with the British Prime Minister.

Whatever was going on didn't seem to be focused on the President, for now. Leon caught the eye of the agents in the room and one gave a nod. Their coms were up and they had Adam covered.

Leon nodded back, silently shutting the door (he really didn't care about what the fuck ever the pound was doing this week) and wheeled back to his desk.

[UNKNOWN] I would have thought you would have been pleased to return to being the President’s lap dog. It even seems you have a promotion after your…resurrection.

And Leon suddenly had a very good idea as to who was harassing him. He couldn't help the smile as he saved the contact, naming it. He doubted it would remain active after this moment but he could at least savor it for later.

[Ghost] Lapdog implies I sit at his feet and wait to play fetch, it's been a long time since then. I am the President’s Personal Aide.

[God of Assholes] You’re his body man. Ready to serve his every desire and request.

[Ghost] Really, Wes, you miss my cock so much that you have to make my job sexual? I’m a glorified bodyguard and assistant with a fat paycheck. Not his whore. You're the one who dumped me here, not the other way around.

The phone went silent and Leon blinked after a few minutes as communications came back on. Apparently, he had struck a nerve.

Several alerts from his computer notified him that Hannigan had been trying to get a hold of him and he sighed, tossing his phone in a drawer to focus on what she wanted.

[BossMommy] You alright?

[Ghost] Yeah, just a sticky ex.

---

The music was loud, the beat covering whatever vocals may have been in the tracks and it was pulling through Leon’s body, pulling against his chest.

It was just what he needed after the week from hell he had been dealing with.

He ordered a drink at the bar, flirting easily with the pretty red headed bartender before turning his back to lean against the counter, eyes scanning over the crowd.

He had come here tonight to forget. To forget Wesker, to forget Chris, to forget himself. To lose everything in the music, the alcohol, the press of another body against his.

It was safer than half the ways he had been thinking of relieving himself this week.

Draining his drink in three swallows, he pushed it back towards the other side to be cool before heading for the floor, allowing himself to be pulled into someone’s grasp, smiling charmingly as his arms snaked around their hips.

Chris watched Leon dance as he sipped his beer, Jill’s hand a comfortable weight on his thigh as she leaned across the table to whisper something to the young soldier with them.

It shouldn't have been this easy. Finding a target like Leon Kennedy should have required more than touching down in D.C., changing into civvies and heading to the club nearest Leon’s apartment.

“You have ten,” Jill said to Chris under her breath, giving his thigh a squeeze. “He’s getting the car.”

Chris watched the soldier go before taking a long pull from his beer and handing it to her, standing and heading for the floor.

He moved easily through the crowd, using his bulk to make a path between him and his target. Wrapping an arm around Leon’s waist from behind, he gave the guy with him a look that sent the man taking off, Leon not noticing with his eyes closed.

Chris pressed against Leon’s back, unable to stop the smile as Leon leaned against him, their bodies moving together to the music.

Chris leaned down to Leon’s neck, drinking in the scent of him before kissing the tender flesh, placing soft, tiny bites against it that made Leon squirm in his arms. He moved his mouth slowly, kissing, biting and sucking a path to Leon’s ear.

“I have orders to take you into custody,” Chris whispered, mouth barely moving against Leon’s ear.

Leon froze, his eyes snapping open, the pleasurable haze he had been in crashing down around him. Chris’ hand tightened at his waist, keeping him pressed against the larger body, but also blocking Long from easily reaching the holster currently in the small of his back.

“You can't do anything on US soil,” Leon countered and was pleased that his voice didn't tremble as much as he was.

“Officially, no “

Which meant these orders were off the books. Someone in the B.S.A.A. was asking Chris Redfield to break international law and bring in Leon S. Kennedy with no paper trail or evidence it ever happened.

That person, was apparently really fucking stupid.

Leon turned in Chris’ grasp, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s neck. “I think we should take this conversation a little more private, handsome,” he said, teasing. He leaned in, tongue flicking over Chris lips before he fucked out of the hold entirely, heading for the bathrooms.

Chris followed at a slower pace, giving Jill a nod. The brunette grabbed her purse, heading for the door of the club to go find their driver.

--

Leon was already waiting in a stall for Chris, having to shuffle around a bit before being able to get the door closed behind him.

Swallowing thickly, he looked up at the other man before his hands went to Chris’ belt. “So, rumor has it that you and a certain pup broke up and he asked to be shipped to Asia…”

Chris leaned back hard against the stall door, allowing Leon to do as he wanted. “Whether we did is not isn't a concern.”

“It is if I’m about to suck you off in a men’s room while you tell me what the fuck your plan here is. I am too old to be kneeling on the floor for no reason.”

Chris went to open his mouth before realizing that Leon had a point, two men just standing in a bathroom stall looked ridiculous and any position they attempted..well, Chris wasn't exactly going to turn Leon down if he was offering.

“Fine. We did. He ..I didn't handle your death well. He caught the brunt of it and took off.”

Which was a lot simpler than saying he became a raging drunk and Piers grew tired of his shit. Fuck, everyone grew tired of his shit by the time Leon turned out to still be alive. He was honestly surprised he had a job…though after tonight, that may not have been true.

Leon arched an eyebrow, sinking to one knee, putting his attention on the half hard cock in his hands. “Start talking, Redfield,” he ordered before taking a long line up Chris ‘ length, teasing him.

“Fuck…forgot you were a bastard…we need to get you out of here, out of D.C.” Chris said, sliding his fingers through Leon's hair.

“You just don't know how to be patient,” Leon teased, stroking him. “And I’m not leaving my life behindagain.”

He returned to sucking on Chris, keeping to the head while his hand stroked the length of him.

“Just for a moment, Leon, I swear, I will return you back but you can't stay here…not right now…”

“Stay with me.”

“What?”

“Stay here, with me,”Leon countered. “You can't go back to the B.S.A.A. not after telling me this. They will end your career, maybe even you. Stay with me. We can protect each other and have the force of the US at our back.”

With that suggestion, Leon leaned in, swallowing Chris completely, hands gripping the larger man’s thoughts for balance as his head bobbed quickly, enjoying the speechless sputtering above him.

--

“We can’t stay at your apartment,” Chris pointed out as he led Leon out of the club, raising a hand once they hit the street.

A black SUV pulled up next to them and Chris opened the door to the back, gesturing to Leon inside. He raised an eyebrow but climbed in, Chris joining him after. “Jill,” Leon greeted, immediately on edge. He liked Jill, he trusted her but Jill wasn’t exactly someone he expected to go off the book for him.

Though…maybe he should have.

“Where to?”

“My apartment, shut up, Chris.” Leon said, passing Jill the address before turning in his seat, looking at the other man. “Unless you want to camp out at the White House, it is the safest building in D.C. at the moment…except maybe the Naval Observatory…wait.”

Leon pulled out his phone, checking a few things before sending a message. “Number One Observatory Circle is still unoccupied,” he stated after getting a message back from Adam. “We have been cleared to take up residence tomorrow, does that satisfy?”

“Will anyone else be on the grounds?”

“It’s a naval facility, Chris - There are people near it, but the only people on the grounds of number one should be us as there is no currently sitting VP after Tall Oaks. Hell, it’s not even technically military, it’s scientific so there isn’t anything of interest to outsiders or strong security measures like most bases.”

An utter lie, of course. The facility had security befitting the home of the Vice President and the Depot of Charts and Instruments, but those measures weren’t for outside ears.

“So, slumber party at Kennedy’s and then we are on the run, joy,” Jill said, pulling up to Leon’s apartment building. “I’m calling the couch now.”

“Good, I got my bed. Enjoy the floor, Redfield.” Leon said as he let himself out, smirking.

Chris opened his mouth to snap back, looking at Leon, just in time to see the man jerk forward, a bullet crashing through his skull, staining the seat and himself red with Leon’s blood.

“GET DOWN,” Jill yelled, opening Chris’ door and jerking the other man out of the car and down as Leon’s body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling on the street. Chris stared at the growing pool under the car, shock taking hold of him, the world losing focus and sound, colours muting, narrowing down to the focus of that too-red blood and the shrill sound of his phone going off in his pocket.

Chapter Text

I'll keep you locked in my head
Until we meet again
Until we, until we meet again - “Who Knew”, P!NK

“Repeat that?”

“He’s dead. Leon was shot in the head.” Jill said into her earpiece, eyes scanning the darkness around them for the sniper.

Across the city, in her lab, Rebecca wheeled herself to the monitors that had Leon's scans up. “Jill, this is going to be intrusive at a very delicate time but can you see his body?”

Jill blinked at the question before shifting, half turning to check over her shoulder. “Give me a second,” she muttered.

She realised that due to how Leon had crumpled, it was impossible to get a decent look and instead, she slid under the SUV. “Yes “

“How much of his brain was hit?”

“How much…what the hell, Becca?”

“Just look!”

“Ugh…uh...none? Some? Fuck it's hard to tell with this much blood. She reached out, closing her eyes for a moment in silent apology to her dead friend, touching this head. “Entry is at the base of his skull, exit took out…well, let's just say he’s a bigger mouth than usual. So brain stem for sure, I don't feel brain matter and fuck you for making me say that.”

“I’m sorry, but I really needed that info Jill - what I need you to do now is bring him here.”

“You mind cluing me in?”

“Not at this moment. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“He’s dead, Rebecca,”

“And you are in the middle of the street with a dead spy next to you. Eyes are everywhere in this city, Jill, but especially near him.”

Jill slid out from under the SUV, turning her attention to her partner.

“Chris, get up. Help me get his body into the car,“ she ordered, nudging him. “You can break down after.”

Chris didn't move for long enough that Jill debated slapping him back to reality before he suddenly started, jerking to his feet. He moved around the vehicle to pick up Leon’s body and load it carefully into the SUV, climbing in after.

Jill watched him place Leon’s head in his lap, combing his fingers through blood-stained blonde hair before she shut the doors, climbing into the driver's seat, and hitting the lights on the car.

Rebecca started preparing for their arrival, disabling the security for the front door before heading to cold storage, staring at the samples that had been delivered just the night before.

She took a breath and grabbed both, praying it would be exactly what they needed given she hadn't yet tested either on Leon’s cells.

The Progenitor strain and PG67A/W were cold against her skin as she slipped both into her bra to warm them, the chill against her chest matching the dread that was slowly filling her as she headed back to her lab, shutting down security feeds as she passed.

She could already hear the facility’s doors slamming open and once they closed again she initiated a lockdown, sealing the building.

Chris laid Leon’s body on one of the beds before immediately sitting next to him, dark eyes blank and unfocused as he took Leon’s cold hand in his

Rebecca ignored him, moving a light around to examine the wounds suffered before grabbing a pair of scissors, and cutting open the sleeve and chest of Leon’s shirt. She attached electrodes to his chest, the thin, flat sound of no activity from his heart grating, but ignorable.

She started a saline IV, forcing Leon’s arm into her lap to try to find a vein without blood circulating.

“What on Earth are you doing?” Jill asked as she sat in a bed.

“Leon isn't…he…” She bit her lip, trying to think of how to explain what was going on when suddenly there was a shift in the room, the heart monitor picking up a low level of activity.

Chris' head jerked up, staring at it while Rebecca finally got the IV in, taping Leon’s arm down within an inch of its life.

She pulled the two vials from her bra, drawing out a small measure of first the Progenitor virus and then the serum, injecting both into the IV, praying as the golden liquid flooded the line, seeping into Leon’s body.

He had already proven to be a genetic candidate for the virus, and while most of his had been burnt out, Rebecca was praying that a small boost would kick in the last bit he would need to come fully back from this, using some of what had to be the last remaining sample of Tricell’s serum from Wesker was far riskier, but Rebecca had no other stabilizer at the moment and Leon had mentioned how many tries it took for Wesker to finally get everything balanced in the ship, time they really didn't have.

“When Wesker took the Plagas, he took the mold with it - but you can't remove the Progenitor from Leon, it's burned into him, I had hoped to give him a boost with a new cocktail so he would stop feeling like utter shit but..”

“But he was shot first,” Jill filled in. “Great. So he's alive?”

“Right now, yes. But he still has a lot of damage to he..”

She was jerked off track as black vines of Mold leached from Leon, wrapping around his body. It started pouring from his mouth, staining him and the bed, dripping to the floor.

Biological contamination alarms started blasting, sirens and lights flashing as Leon’s vitals started to go out of control, his heart rate picking up and slowing down, skipping beats.

“Rebecca, what the fuck is going on?!” Chris yelled, jerking back from the bed

“I don't know!”

“What the hell is this crap?” Jill asked, her hand on her sidearm as she lifted her legs to keep them out of the puddle.

“I think it's the Mold…but that doesn't make sense, he wasn't infected, the Plagas was…”

“Could it have spread to him?” Chris asked, feeling ridiculous as he climbed onto his chair to escape it.”

“I don't see how. It's…a…fungus…”. Rebecca closed her eyes. The Mold is a fungus, of course it spreads, that’s what they do, they spread out and take over new organisms and area, consume. God damnit, Wesker didn't remove the Mold, he removed the Fungal root… it's base. The hypha is still there.”

“Wait, that is the Mold? I expected it to be more...fungi and not inky.”

“Yes, well right now that is the least of our problems…he’s mutating.”

“Into what?!”

--

Wesker hissed through his teeth as Leon sank onto his erection, holding the other man’s hips as he moved Leon on him.

Leon was quiet, unusual for him as he flexed his thighs, rising and falling with Wesker’s directions. He was savouring the feeling, the push of Wesker filling him., the pull of him sliding away, becoming too empty too fast. He leaned in for a hungry, but lazy kiss before playfully tightening his muscles around Wesker, blue eyes on Amber.

“I died tonight,” he whispered against Wesker's lips, feeling the other man still suddenly.

“You what?”

“Died,” Leon said as if it were an action as normal as getting the paper or pouring milk. “Always thought it would be a rogue zombie or maybe a fucking car accident…never expected a bullet to the back of the head.”

Though, with how many people he intentionally pissed off, it probably should have been higher on the list

“Happened about an hour or so ago, bled out everywhere though I was long dead before that.” He continued to rock his hips against Wesker’s kissing him again. Mold crept from his arms, wrapping around the pair in an embrace. “Wanted to see you…can't see anyone else, you were the only one other than Ada to breathe in the spores…”

Of course. Wesker honestly could have slapped himself for not thinking of it. Leon had been continuing to vomit non-stop on the ship, spewing mold and more than likely spores everywhere.

Only he and Ada had been near him unmasked and without filtered air…so only he and Ada would have been affected by any connection to him.

“Surely the Progenitor…”

“Oh they're trying to save me…something just went wrong. I can't go back,” Leon shrugged before picking up the pace, slamming himself down onto Wesker, whimpering as he started to fuck himself on the man’s cock.

“Pity you aren't there to fix it…” Leon groaned before leaning into Wesker’s ear. “Pity, you made me leave and got me killed.”

His hand plunged into Wesker’s chest as he came, gripping the Tyrant's heart.

Wesker jerked awake with a gasp, blood spilling down his chest. He jerked open his shirt, watching as five claw marks healed leaving a mold-tainted scar over his heart.

He threw off the covers of his bed, grabbing his phone as he headed for the lab, already calling Leon’s number.

---

“Who the fuck is “God of Assholes’?” Chris asked, snatching up Leon’s phone when it rang for the fifteenth time

Rebecca stared at him before realizing who it could be based on Leon’s naming ideas and diving for it. “No, Chris don't ans-” She was cut off by Wesker’s face appearing and cursed. “Damnit! Wait, give me that!”

“Wesker,” Chris growled though it was less a greeting and more of a threat.

“Redfield, where is Leon?” Wesker asked, concerned despite himself that it was Chris who appeared and not an annoying former DSO agent.

“None of you- give it back, Rebecca!”

“He’s currently molding all over my lab,” Rebecca snapped, plugging Leon’s phone into her console so Wesker could be seen by everyone as well as access the room’s cameras. “He’s mutating but I can't get a handle on it “

Wesker studied the bubbling mess that was Leon before moving out of frame for a moment. “What have you tried already, Dr. Chambers?”

“A minor progen injection with a stabilizing serum got his heart back up, but then he started molding.”

“The Progenitor probably kicked the Mold growth factors into overdrive,” Wesker muttered from off-screen. “Reanimating dead tissue and cells included the cloned ones.”

He appeared in the frame again and this time he was frowning. “If you three wish to remain near him, you will probably want to put on masks. It has been discovered he leaks spores.”

“Spores?” Rebecca squeaked, running for masks.

“They are a side effect of the Mold that produces hallucinations.”

Or bonded dream states, but Wesker wasn't going to share that part.

“Have you tried sedation?”

“Not yet, I wasn't sure how it would affect his body.”

“It shouldn't interfere, try the one I am sending now, it worked well on the ship.”

“Why are we getting advice from a fucking terrorist psychopath?” Chris growled, glaring at the screens.

Jill and Rebecca both turned to look at him like he was an idiot. “Because he has the most experience with what we are dealing with as well as Leon’s physiology,” Rebecca said before heading to draw up the sedative.

“Yeah, because he took advantage of Leon’s mental state and abused him,” Chris muttered darkly.

“The only person who ‘abused’ Leon was your agency, Christopher. Please focus your inward guilt appropriately and leave me out of it,” Wesker snapped.

“How dare you sit there like you-”

“Now isn't the time, Chris,” Jill said, grabbing his arm. “Look, like it or not we need the asshole right now. If you can't handle that, go wait somewhere. He can't hurt Leon here, Rebecca knows what she is doing and he can't climb through the monitors…”

Chris jerked out of her grasp, leaving the room as Rebecca started injecting Leon’s IV.

--

The halls of the B.S.A.A. science facility were dark, the faint red glow from the biological breach alarm casting odd shadows that followed Chris as he paced…or maybe that was the Mold, creeping down the halls.

It had started as a faint stirring, whispering just beyond his senses, voices too fine and soft to make out but as he walked, they started growing louder - clearer. Children whispering, laughing, singing.

An echo of a memory of different conversations in different times…different lives

I’m tired of watching you walk away from me…

Chris spun around, gun raised. Leaning against a wall was Leon, flickering in and out of sight. He wasn't looking at Chris, instead staring at something else.

An echo of a memory.

As Chris moved back down the hall, towards the man he flicked completely out of sight.

“He asked me how long…Jesus, Claire he really is fucking blind, isn't he? How do I tell him I’ve been in love with him since before we even met? That sounds creepy and I’m the one living it,”

The hall was darkening, mold climbing over the lights, what sight it could. A part of Chris wanted to turn his headlamp on - another was ready to just be swallowed by the darkness if it would stop Leon’s voice.

He reached for his earpiece, flicking it to get Jill, instead finding silence.

I will do whatever it takes to protect them. Leave them out of this - just tell me where to sign.

Chris winced at that, the words cutting through him like a knife. He knew that conversation, even if he had never heard it. Leon had signed his life away to protect two women he barely knew and would do it again every time.

Even after all the heartbreak, the trauma, after everything he had been put through, Leon was still, at his core, the lost rookie cop who just wanted to help people, to save them. He just bled a lot more for it.

If we do this, if I help you, you need to leave them out, Wes. You can't get revenge and me at the same time. I won't stand in your way except on this…and maybe trying to be God.

Mold suddenly lashed out, grabbing at Chris. He went to fire his gun at it only to have the mold seize his wrist, jerking the gun hard away from him.

More tendrils shit out from the walls, snaking around his limbs, torso, and throat, choking him, pulling on him.

Chris felt as if he were going to be ripped apart and the whole time a flickering shadow of Leon watched. Chris struggled to breathe against the mold grabbing him, watching the flickering form as it moved closer.

“You failed again, Chris…you lost yet another friendlover because you weren’t good enough, fast enough, strong enough…and Wesker had to pick up the pieces this time…” The shadow of Leon reached up, grasping Chris’s head, kissing him hungrily as mold slid under his tac vest and shirt, ripping through cloth, canvas and kevlar. “Albert was the one to find me…to save me…never you…you were never the one to be the first choice, the wanted one…”

Chris opened his mouth to the kiss, groaning as Leon pressed their bodies together, hissing as the cold tendrils wrapped around him slid over his bar skin, pressing both men tighter together. Leon’s mouth moved down his jaw. Biting and sucking on the flesh as his fingers traced over Chris' chest and abdomen, claws leaving blood black trails over his skin, causing Chris to cry out in pain.

“Stop…”Chris gasped as Leon’s hands sunk into his flesh, clinging to him.

“If you want it to stop, just open your eyes, idiot.”

Chris gasped as his eyes shot open, feeling as if ice water had been dunked on him, staring at the blood-tinged hallway.

His chest burned, blood staining it around the long claws marks and mold drenching it.

He groaned, pushing himself to his feet, and heading for the lab to get checked out, trying to ignore the echo of Leon’s words, tears burning in his eyes.

--

Now that Chris was out of the room and Rebecca could speak more freely, she held up a vial to one of the cameras. “I gave him some of your serum as the stabiliser, that shouldn't have affected this, correct?”

Wesker was silent for a moment, clearly thinking before he shook his head. “No. While not his usual formula, it is what I based his on, many of the ingredients are the same, just at different dosages. At most, it would weaken and not enhance the Mold and Progenitor reaction.”

“Good,” Rebecca said, letting out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

“Vitals are stabilising and he doesn't appear to be producing more biomass so I see you have him stable, all that's left is waiting. Call me if anything changes or you need something.”

With that, Wesker hung up, leaving the pair to their own devices. Rebecca unhooked the phone from her computer, putting it back by Leon.

Jill squeezed her hand as she joined Rebecca at their friend’s side, wondering just what would become of him after all this.

Would it even still be Leon?

--

“Uh, I thought with the lockdown down we weren't expecting company?”

“We shouldn't be, " Rebecca said, wheeling herself to the monitors Jill was watching. “No one can get in or out while I’m still alive, why?”

Jill gestured to the approaching Osprey. “Company is coming. Two birds inbound. Not B.S.A.A. or military though.”

“So…guests. Five guesses on who.”

“Well. I can guess one of them is Claire, since Chris called her, as for the other…”

They waited while the two landed on the roof of the building, Jill switching feeds to watch that yes, Claire was stepping out of one of the ospreys while the other…Ada and H.U.N.K. seemed to be greeting Clare cooly, but not in a fashion that screamed danger. It was the third person off the aircraft that had Claire freezing and both Jill and Rebecca staring.

Wesker said something to Claire before pushing past the redhead who grabbed his arm. Jill's hand gripped her gun as she watched Wesker freeze, turning to look at the hand stopping him, then at the woman it belonged to.

Ada stepped forward, her hands out as if to calm the situation while H.U.N.K. was ready to stop Claire.

Who used the moment to slug the blond, knocking his glasses off, but not a whole lot else. He stared at her for a long, silent moment before gently, far more gently than any watching the scene could imagine, removing her hand from his arm. He released her, stopping to pick up his glasses as he walked away.

“Did…Claire just get away with that?”

“Has to be fake, no way did we not watch her get punched to death…” Rebecca stated, head jerking up as the lockdown suddenly ended. “Uh .. that's not possible…”

“He brought Ada, she tends to do the impossible far more than I am comfortable with,” Jill muttered, heading for the door. “Let's go head them off before Chris finds out he’s here.”

---

Jill resorted to locking Chris in the room he had taken over for sleep, joining Rebecca as the young girl went to greet the foursome as they arrived in the lobby from the roof.

She gave Claire a tight hug, before staring at Wesker. She hadn't seen him since Africa, since having the P30 implant removed and looking up into his amber eyes had memories she thought she had moved past crashing into her again.

It wasn't her that had reacted though and the sound of a hard slap echoed in the hall as Wesker stood before Rebecca, his head still turned to the side as if the woman's hand had hurt.

Tears streamed down Rebecca’s cheeks as she stood there, stinging hands clenched in a fist.

This man had fucked all of them over, ruined their lives and no matter how many years on, some wounds still hurt, a pain Jill knew well.

“Bastard,” Rebecca stated before wiping her eyes, the walls she had built around her past visibly being resurrected as she took a steadying breath. “He’s in lab 8, you will need this.” She held out a key card, trembling hand slowly steadying.

Wesker silently accepted the card, passing it to Ada. He gave Rebecca a final, silent look before following the raven-haired mercenary towards the lab, long coat swishing off behind him.

Jill and Claire both pulled Rebecca into their arms as the group left, supporting her as she collapsed, sobs escaping her.

--

Wesker sat at Leon’s bedside, one leg crossed over the other as he took in the file that Rebecca had prepared on the man. So far any attempt to remove the mold covering Leon just resulted in more appearing, effectively cocooning the man.

Vitals were still stable, EKG and blood pressure cuff trapped in the cocoon with Leon, but still reading, meaning Leon hadn't moved or even twitched.

Amber eyes raised as Rebecca entered and he closed the file, watching her. “If I speak, are you going to slap me again?”

She paused, looking at him. “No.”

“I am sorry.”

“That…wasn't what I expected to hear,” she said, slamming a door shut before turning to look at him. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why? Why are you sorry? Why did you do it? Why are you apologizing now of all times? You shot me. You killed everyone I cared about except two people and helped destroy…everything.”

“Yes,” he said with a loose shrug. “But do any of those answers matter. What would it gain you to know why I shot you beyond the fact it was necessary for my goals? I am apologizing now because it's the first time I have seen you since that night long enough to hold a conversation without someone about to die and I am sorry because once upon a time there was a young woman who looked up at me and called me her Captain. A young woman who I respect a great deal and am sorry that I had to ruin her to get what I needed.”

“Is that all?”

“That I am apologizing for? Yes. I don't regret my larger actions, Doctor Chambers, nor would I change them if I could.”

Except maybe actually killing Chris, but he didn't think this was the appropriate venue to voice that, it would probably be needless considering neither man seemed to be moving on from their vendettas any time soon.

“I didn't miraculously change simply because Christopher decided to drop a volcano on me and I happen to be in a relationship with Leon.”

Rebecca watched him, leaning against a counter. She had noticed several things off about what Wesker had said. He used Leon’s first name which...while not unusual when it came to the former S T A R S. members, WAS for Leon.

He also used the present tense when discussing having a sexual relationship with the agent.

“He was lost and hurt, you know. When you dumped him back here. Next time, try talking to people. You’ll get slapped less.”

She grabbed the vials she needed, leaving Wesker alone to stare at Leon’s cocoon.

--

“I’m going to kill him,” Chris raged and Jill rolled her eyes, watching him pace.

“No, you aren't.”

“How can you be calm about this?! The man who tortured you for years is just down the hall and you are sitting here calmly like it's a fucking picnic.”

“Because one of us being stupid over it is enough, Chris! Fighting him will gain us nothing, and you know that the second Leon finds out he will be furious. I don't need both of you to lose your tempers and have to deal with him and his mercenaries.”

“Why is he even here? It's not like he and Leon have some actual connection besides apparently fucking around since Leon can't seem to not sleep with men who are bad choices.”

“May I point out you were one of those choices,” Jill said, a small smirk on her face. “He wanted to see Leon’s progress in person, something that I would expect you would be able to accept as none of us know what we’re doing and both he and Rebecca are the only people smart enough to figure this out. Him being here means you get a third chance to tell Leon you love him.”

“Pretty sure that ship has sailed,” Chris muttered, throwing himself into a chair. “Fuck, Jill…I don't think he’s going to stick around after this. You know Leon, if he can't bury himself he runs and there are no monsters to fight here or bars to drain dry.”

“Yes, but give him something to stay for. For once, Chris fight for something you love before it walks out of your life. You both deserve to be happy.”

“What if I can't give him that?” Chris asked, voice soft, hesitant.

“Then he will walk out that door with Wesker and you're going to have to deal with that. Or fuck, maybe he’ll tell you both to get lost and go run away with President Benford or whomever else, but you need to give him the choice instead of trying to always protect him and make it for him.”

The pair looked up as Claire joined them, taking a seat next to her brother. “Chris…when was the last time you touched someone without it being related to sex or fighting?”

Chris blinked at Claire, his mind having to take a minute to process the odd question. “This morning, when I hugged you.”

“Jill?” Claire asked, looking at the other woman.

“Two days ago. I hugged a recruit who was homesick.”

“And outside the obvious answer of hugging my brother this morning, I held a girl’s hand in the flight over, she was scared of the plane.”

“What's the point of this exercise?” Chris asked.

“When have either of you last touched Leon? When do you think anyone has?”

Chris opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again, Claire's conditions of sex or fighting silencing him.

“Is it any wonder he's going to lean towards the three offering him affection and a human connection when we can't even name the last time we fucking hugged him, or touched his hand or anything that wasn't sex or violence? I have seen them together and for all that I hate Wesker - he is one of the few people willing to give Leon what he needs - human connection.”

“He isn't human,” Chris muttered darkly.

Jill slapped him upside the head before looking at Claire. “So we’re just supposed to be happy when he runs off with him again? Claire, Wesker isn't some poor dating choice you hope can change, he’s a fucking terrorist bent on destroying humanity.”

“And Leon is an adult who is well aware of that, but we don't get a vote. We kind of forfeited that right when none of us looked into his last mission. We just accepted him as dead and this is the price “

“If he goes with Wesker - that will be the final straw,” Chris said, leaning back in his chair. “He will lose everything he earned in his career. No one in our community will feel safe having Leon under Wesker’s control, especially not with him also employing Ada.”

“I know,” Claire said softly, staring at her hands. “And so does he.”

“He's still going to walk out that door, isn't he?”

“Wouldn't you?”

---

“I think we will see a change soon,” Wesker said as Ada silently entered the room.

“Oh?”

She asked, sitting in the arm of Wesker’s chair, her eyes travelling to Leon’s cocoon.

“Take off one of your gloves,” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, doing so. He guided her hand to the cocoon, ignoring her reaction to the feel of the Mold. “Give it a moment.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, but held still, waiting. The Mold reached out to her, flowing over her hand, consuming it.

She could feel Leon in the Mold, feel so much more than just him, but everything he was. She could feel his heartbeat against her hand, steady, strong, a propping touch at her mind, almost like a whisper of a caress.

“I felt it this morning when I was adjusting the cables.”

“Can they?”

“No. The Mold only reacts to you, I and H.U.N.K.”

“Should I be concerned we are also infected?”

“Minorly.”

“That is not a reassuring thought.”

“Nothing that will affect us. But we are bound to him.”

“Does that bother you?” Ada asked, not expecting an answer.

Wesker was silent for a long moment, simply touching Leon’s cocoon. “Not as much as I thought it would.”

---

“What, exactly, was the plan?” Ada asked, leaning against a desk.

“Well, it wasn't to be stuck here - we planned to keep away from the B.S.A.A. not get stuck in a lab. After Leon died it...kind of fell apart,” Rebecca said, folding towels.

“So what now?”

“Now we hope no one notices we're hiring three wanted fugitives, a dead man and have taken over a top-secret science lab?”

Ada tapped her chin in thought before pushing away from the desk. “Let me cash in some favours…we may be able to work this…it might not be pleasant though.”

“Can it save them?”

“Yes.”

“Then it doesn't matter.”

---

In the lab, alarms started to scream as the Mold cocoon that held Leon started to calcify, solidifying.

Chapter Text

I'm never gonna be good enough for you. Can't pretend that I'm all right - “Perfect”, Simple Plan

“What is going on?!”

“Why the hell is he white?!”

“Is he still in there?”

Leon could hear the sounds, faintly, but nothing was visible. He tried to move, to shift but his body was trapped, pressed on all sides. He started to panic as he realized he couldn't breath, his lungs unable to expand against the hard stone pressing him into place.

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he struggled, desperate, lungs begging for air when suddenly the stone above him cracked open, light and air piercing in as Chris wretched the calcified stone apart.

Leon gasped desperately for needed oxygen, throwing himself upright and into Chris’ arms, clinging to him. “Holy fuck,” he muttered

Jill and Rebecca cleared the cocoon from the bed so that Chris could lay Leon down again, Rebecca checking the man over.

“Well doc?” Leon asked, a bit annoyed he was in the lab without a clue as to why. “Anyone going to tell me what the fuck is going on?” He was still clinging to Chris' arm, refusing to release it.

“What do you remember?” Jill asked.

“You and Chris interrupted my night off.”

“You were killed by a B.S.A.A. sniper,” Jill said, taking a seat next to Leon's bed, taking his other hand in hers, giving it a squeeze. “They were waiting outside your apartment.”

Leon blinked and an image of Chris’ face looking at him covered in blood was overlaid onto his eyelids, vanishing when they opened.

“This isn't hell,” Leon muttered and Jill gave him a look. “No. You were brought back.”

“Do I want to know how?”

“Congratulations, you're infected…still,” Rebecca said as she wheeled in a portable test unit. “I really need to get balloons for that sort of thing.”

---

Ada lay curled against Wesker's side in the small bed the pair had taken over, running her fingernails through his hair. It was less a comforting action for him than one for her, both of them focused on the small monitor before them.

“Go to him,” she said softly. “I know you would rather be in there than with me.”

“I made my choice. Nothing good comes of being around him. We are here until he is recovering and we have the data I need. Nothing has changed.”

Ada sighed, untangling from Wesker and sliding from the bed, slipping her pants on. “Why are you both so stupid?” She asked, leaving the room.

Wesker watched her go before returning his attention to the security feeds of the lab, watching Leon and Rebecca talk.

--

“I have good news and bad news,” Rebecca said, sitting next to Leon.

“Hit me,” he muttered, sighing.

“You have burned through most of the virus. You do it again and unless the Mold has some miraculous Jesus powers, you die for good this time. On the other hand, your body has completely adapted to the Mold with a new fungal root spawning. Your levels have normalized, so minus the chest, you are as normal as you’re going to get - hopefully.”

“So the fun tattoo stays?”

“Looks like," she said, lightly tracing the inky vine like marks across Leon’s chest, stomach and arms. “In other news, an associate sent me images of his own patient you might find interesting…”. Rebecca held out her phone, allowing Leon for the first time to see the molded claws marks on Wesker's chest.

“How…”

“Apparently, your death dreams have a lasting impact. Chris also has marks.” She motioned for him to flip pictures and he whistled at the long scratches across the other man’s abdomen and chest.

“Apparently, dream me likes playing rough,” he muttered, handing her back her phone. “Think I can break out of here before they come to return the favor?”

“Nope,“ she said cheerily. “They're already here and have been since you died. Well, Chris has. Wesker and his team showed up three days later and you have a very scary boyfriend when he's not in a good mood,”

“A. Not my boyf-wait, what do you mean he’s here?”

“I mean, Albert Wesker, Ada Wong and a mercenary appeared in my lab and have refused to leave until you wake up,” She patted his hand at his expression. “Relax, it actually helped us out - the B.S.A.A. now thinks we’re hostages and not willfully hiding your body. He even sent a threatening video to Director O’Brien.”

Which had to be recorded four times because Ada and Jill kept snickering every time Wesker tried his “I am a God, you puny human” spiel, copies of which she had already uploaded to Leon’s phone for him to enjoy in his leisure.

“President Benford already has plans in place for your protection. He also wishes you to get well and return to work soon before he throws something at someone named Patrick who won't leave him alone about your condition. Oh, and he’s returning to the DSO after November….you know, in case you don't want to play nice with the next guy.”

Leon blinked at the information overload, and realized with her final statement how much he just…hadn't thought about. Adam was about to run out of term. He was the President’s sword and served several administrations but it had only really mattered when it was his occasional lover in the role of Vice President and then President…he .. didn't want to serve another man or woman in the Office.

At least, not until Ashley Graham took the chair, as he was sure she would.

“That's…good,” he said about the last part.

Rebecca gave him a soft smile, taking and squeezing his hand. “I will be moving to the DSO labs when you can leave. It would be nice if you would be there with me.”

Because after all, once Adam took over again, Leon’s discharge due to Wesker could be set aside.

“I...have to think about it.”

“I know.”

---

Leon was trying to dress when he heard him finally. Turning, he saw Wesker leaning against the door and he dropped his shirt on the bed, crossing over to the other man.

The pair stared at each other for a long moment before Wesker moved, grabbing the fist that had been aimed for his nose, seizing as well the one Leon tried to land in his stomach and spinning the smaller man around, holding him tightly to keep Leon from lashing out again as they pressed together.

“Stop this ” Wesker ordered and Leon sagged against him, fight fleeing, exhaustion taking root.

“I hate you,” Leon whispered, tears spiking his lashes. “I hate you so much.”

“If you hated me, you would have shot me.” Wesker pointed out. He released Leon's arms, but wrapped him in an embrace, holding Leon still against him, his lips pressed against the top of Leon's head.

“Stop trying to be nice,” Leon muttered, but even as he did, his arm held one against his abdomen, clinging to it.

“You should be in bed,” Wesker whispered against his hair.

“Fuck you, Wes”

“I doubt you have the energy, pet.”

Leon turned his head, capturing Wesker’s lips in a hungry kiss, smirking against him as a bite to the older man's lower lip forced a groan from him.

Leon found himself shoved against a wall, now fully facing Wesker, those amber eyes glowing down at him.

“Come on, Wes…you know it takes a bit more than death to keep me down.” Leon teased before giving a hop, wrapping his long legs around Wesker's hips.

He ground their hips together, grinning when he felt his ex's growing erection. “I am going to fuck you, so it's up to you to either behave or be tied up,” Leon growled softly.

Wesker reached up, fisting a hand to Leon's hair and jerking his head back. “Or I can leave and leave you wanting,” he pointed out.

Wesker was the physically stronger of the pair when Leon didn't resort to using the Mold and the idea of Leon forcing Wesker to do anything he didn't want was laughable. But the pair enjoyed a good fight just as much as they enjoyed a good fuck and Leon never did really know when to back down.

Besides, the hips grinding him into the wall weren't exactly saying the same no Wesker was.

Leon unhooked his legs and shoved the taller man, a tendril of Mold coming up from the floor to trip him. Leon grinned as Wesker lay sprawled out on the floor, straddling his hips. He pressed a hand to the floor next to Wesker's head and mold shot up, binding the blond.

He went to kiss him only to find himself flung away, Uroborus writhing around Wesker.

The virus strands tore at the mold, freeing Wesker who stood, brushing himself off before he dashed across the room, slamming Leon into a bed, sending it flying.

Leon clawed at his throat, getting his legs up to kick Wesker's stomach. He yelled as Wesker refused to release him, both of them flying with the momentum, hitting the floor hard.

Wesker finally let go as Leon's elbow drove into his stomach, grunting. He pinned his ex to the ground, kissing Leon violently before slamming Leon’s head into the ground, standing, kicking Leon’s leg aside as he attempted to bring the other man down, pinning the leg with his foot, crushing the ankle.

Leon cried out in pain, glaring up at Wesker. He used the mold to wrap around his ankle as a brace before flipping to his feet, jumping on Wesker’s back.

“Really?” Wesker growled, slamming Leon back into the wall, trying to get him to let go.

“Geddy-up,” Leon said and then yelped as he was flipped over Wesker’s shoulder, slamming into a bunch of medical equipment, cursing as a broken glass shard slicing up his arm. “Look, I know you like blood but there has to be a safer way to get it, Wes,”

Wesker grabbed Leon’s throat, slamming him up against the wall, staring down into Leon’s eyes before kissing him again, ripping open the other’s pants.

“Finally,” Leon groaned, wrapping his long legs around Wesker’s hips, kissing him back, arching into the hand stroking him. “Please, Wes…fuck me already…” His hands ripped open Wesker’s shirt, groaning as he ran his hands down Wesker’s chest. “Have you gained even more muscles?”

“Wrong ex,” Wesker said, before dropping Leon with a smirk, giving an actual laugh as the other man whined. “Relax, pet, get on the counter,” he said as he opened his belt, watching Leon all but run to obey, climbing onto the counter, his legs spread for Wesker after he kicked his pants across the room.

Wesker lobbed a tube of lube at him. “Show me how much you want it,” he ordered, snapping the belt against Leon’s thigh, enjoying the bright red mark that appeared. He took a seat, stroking himself, leaning back as he prepared to enjoy the show.

Leon drew his legs fully up onto the counter, grabbing the tube and lubing up three of his fingers, his eyes locked onto Wesker’s as he slipped one into himself, licking his lips as he pushed against them making sure Wesker got a great view as he slid another in, stretching himself, curling them just so, groaning as he brushed them over his prostate. “Fuck…Wes…” he moaned, a third finger sliding into his body, biting his lip at the spark of pain from stretching too far too fast, gasping softly.

“Too eager, Pet,” Wesker said, and reached out, flicking his wrist again, the belt that was still in his free hand hitting against Leon’s inner thigh.

Leon cried out and Wesker struck him again, this time against the blond’s lower abdomen, causing him to arch up against the strike, gasping. “Wes…”

Wesker stood, shoving the chair away from him, grabbing the tube of lubrication, palming a measure before shoving a finger roughly into Leon along with the other man’s own, kissing him, swallowing the cry Leon made as his tongue plunged into the other man’s mouth. He started stroking himself again, slicking lubricant over him before pushing Leon back and lifting one of his legs up, gripping his thigh hard enough to bruise as he pushed into him roughly.

Leon clung to Wesker’s shoulders, whimpering as he met the thrust, mouth desperately locking onto Wesker’s neck as their bodies pushed together, desperate for the connection that had been lost. Tears rolled down Leon’s cheeks as he gasped Wesker’s name, body shaking with each thrust into his body, mold wrapping around them, drawing him harder into him.

“Harder…please…need you…more…”

Wesker’s nails dug into Leon’s body, drawing blood as he drove into the other man, whispering something into his ear, not even sure what he was saying and really not carrying, burying his face in Leon’s neck, mouth moving against his skin. His free hand reached between them, jerking Leon against his thrusts, causing Leon’s head to fall back from the stimulation, a mewling cry wretched from him.

“Come for me, pet,” Wesker demanded, tightening his grip around Leon, biting down on his neck.

Leon cried out Wesker’s name as he came, Wesker following shortly, whatever he may have said muffled against Leon’s skin as he clung desperately to the other man, feeling Leon’s tears on his cheek, his eyes closing tightly, burying whatever emotions he might have felt as he pulled back, turning away from Leon.

“We’re leaving tonight,” He said as he zipped up his pants, grabbing his sunglasses. “I will contact Doctor Chambers with anything I notice in your files.”

Leon didn’t reply, refusing to look at Wesker as he angrily wiped his eyes, fixing his own pants and finding his bloody shirt, heading for the showers.

In the shadows of the hallway, Chris was watching the pair of them, his eyes resting on Wesker’s back, rage burning in him.

--

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Well hello to you too,” Leon said, raising an eyebrow at Chris, taking a sip of the nutritional shake Wesker had forced on him, gagging at the chalky taste “Do you want an itemized list or was there something specific you were yelling about?”

Chris all but three himself in the chair next to Leon's bed. “I saw you two, Leon. Why the fuck would you allow that? You know you deserve better.”

“Then kinky sex?” Leon was honestly confused, trying to think what about his latest time with Wesker had set Chris off…besides the “Wesker” part

“That wasn't…Leon, he was abusing you!”

Leon choked on a mouthful of shake, staring at Chris wide-eyed. “Are you serious, Chris?! It was…Jesus,” he rubbed his temple, trying to figure out how to explain that no, he really, really likes a bit of violence in his fucking and usually gave as good as he got without actually saying that.

“It was just rough sex, Chris. I like the pain and I can take a lot more than a normal man. Do you think for a single second I would let him do any of that if I wasn't enjoying it? That kind of says a lot more about what you think of me than anything he did.”

“Leon…”

“No, Chris, see, you don't get a vote in how I fuck someone. You gave up that right when it stopped being you doing the fucking.”

“I don't want you to get hurt!”

“Well, you're a bit late with that, when all you have ever done is hurt me, Chris. At least with Albert, I know what I am getting into.”

Chris stared at Leon, before leaving the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

“I do believe that is the first time you’ve used my name,” Wesker said from the doorway of the office he had taken over, having stopped packing when he first heard Chris’ voice.

Leon groaned, falling back in the bed. “Don't get used to it,” he muttered. “How soon until I can leave?”

“Tonight, if you desire.”

“Please. I know they mean well but…I want to go home.”

Wesker sat on the bed, kissing Leon deeply, claiming him, biting at his lips. They kissed again and suddenly Wesker found himself face first into Leon’s bed, thousands of tiny, ash moths floating around him. They moved as a cloud, circling him for a moment before suddenly Leon appeared again, slamming into the ground, eyes wide, hyperventilating.

“Well that is new,“ Wesker said, before dashing across the room as Leon passed out.

---

“He overextended himself,” Rebecca said, packing up some of her files. “He will be fine with rest, food and a few days of not using any of his mold related powers, so try not to have a national emergency.’

Adam laughed from his end of the call, trying to fix his tie. “No promises, but I will at least promise to keep him out of them. So should I expect him back soon?”

“Unless he pulls a disappearing act with Wesker tonight, he should be back at the White House tomorrow. Are you sure the bunker is feasible?”

“They trust it with my life, I’m sure we can hide a rogue agent in it for a few weeks.”

“Alright, I’ll brief Chris and Jill. Thanks, Mr. President.”

“Please, Doctor Chambers, I’m about to be your boss. Just call me Adam. Or Jackass as most of the agents do when they think I’m not listening.”

Rebecca snorted, smiling at the man. “Your tie is crooked, Adam,” she teased, laughing as he cursed, turning off the communicator. She poked her head out, watching Leon sleep. “Just what are we going to do with you…”

--

Chris watched as Claire climbed into her Osprey, giving them a wave as she took off. He headed downstairs, refusing to look at Leon and Wesker who were standing outside the other vehicle, instead loading the last of Rebecca’s gear into the SUV and climbing in.

“We set?” Rebecca asked?

Chris nodded, shutting the door. Jill started the vehicle as Wesker’s osprey took to the air, heading in the opposite direction.

Jill glanced in her rear view mirror, slamming on her breaks as she saw a figure leaving the BSAA building. She hopped out of the SUV, staring at Leon as he approached them, Wesker's long coat swirling around his legs.

“Think you could give a guy a lift?” He asked, just as the lab exploded behind him, framing him in fire and smoke, mold crawling over his skin, ghostly moth wings flapping in the night.

Chapter Text

You left and I cried tears of blood. My sorrow grows. It's not just that You left. But when you left my eyes went with you. Now, how will I cry? -Rumi

“Stop staring,” Wesker ordered, not looking up from his microscope.

“You're grumpy when you aren't getting laid regularly.” Ada commented, examining her nails before returning to filing them.

“Are you offering?”

“Not a chance.”

“Then shut the fuck up about it.”

“You could just go get him,” she started and really didn't flinch when his grip broke part of the work bench. Really.

“I have no interest in having a washed up drunken DSO agent hanging around. I have a business to run.”

“Which is why you’ve been ignoring everyone including clients and the labs since you got back. It's been three months, Wesker. Maybe it's time to adm-” she started to choke as a tendril of Uroboros wrapped around her throat, slamming her into a wall.

“Get out. Or next time I will snap your neck,” Wesker said, his eyes glowing.

Ada left, rubbing the bruises in her throat. Wesker watched her leave, before lashing out, lab equipment flying across the room.

--

“Agents Redfield, Valentine, sir.”

Adam looked up as his secretary let in the named pair, setting a file aside. He threw a weighted bag at the office door across the room before gesturing to the couches.

“Have a seat, drinks?”

“No thank you, sir,” Chris said while Jill nodded. “A screwdriver if they refilled the orange juice.”

Benford nodded, preparing her drink along with a scotch for himself and a whiskey for Leon who had just entered from his office, tossing the weighted bag back on the President’s desk before accepting the glass.

“How is the DSO treating you?” Benford asked, leaning against his desk.

“It's…a lot to get used to,” Chris admitted. “I am military so adjusting has been…interesting.”

Leon snorted into his whiskey. “Meaning he can't do stealth and prefers missions he can just kick the door in.”

“I am sure we will have several of those soon enough,” Adam said. “The B.S.A.A. is still blaming Wesker for one of their labs going up in flames, but they're going to realize several of their top agents have defected soon. Especially given that your teams are on their way stateside as we speak.”

“Teams, sir?” Chris asked, confused.

“Both the Hound Wolf Squad and Silver Daggers have requested US and DSO protection,” Leon stated, picking up a file from Adam’s desk and handing it to the pair, one for each.

“As the second in command of the DSO’s new chain of command and acting head of FSO while Ingrid’s playing transition head, I authorized their arrival, set up and possible placements.”

“You put Piers with Jill…” Chris said, reading over the paperwork.

“His request.”

Chris jerked his head around and Leon met his gaze steadily, though there was sympathy in his expression. It had to have been hard to get that news and while Leon had tried talking to the younger man, Piers straight up refused to speak with him, only responding to Hannigan.

“The Silver Daggers and Nivans will be under Agent Valentine's leadership, supporting FSO and other agents.,” Adam started.

“With all due respect, sir, I would rather not take a back seat. I promise, I can handle being on the front lines…”

Adam waved his hand. “Of that I have no doubt, Agent Valentine. You were selected as you have the experience and skills as well as the temperament to work with many different organizations and agents, something far too few of our agents right now. I am also assigning you a handful of younger agents.”

“So babysitting.”

“Pretty much. Try to teach them something.”

Jill groaned, but accepted the job with a nod, flipping through the bios.

“The Hound Wolf Squad has been, of course, reassigned to you, Chris,” Leon said. You have blanket permission to return to your investigation into the B.S.S.A. except under me,”

“Your favorite position,” Jill muttered and lifted her feet to avoid a kick from her former partner, smirking.

“For obvious reasons, it's extremely classified, no one outside this room or the Hound Wolf’s know.”

“Except the elephant in the room “ Adam pointed out.

“Mm, well, we can plan around Dumbo if he decides to do anything other than hide and sulk in the South Pacific. So far, no Intel on that end. Not even HCF is doing anything other than twiddling their ass cheeks. Apparently clients are getting up in arms because sales aren't going through as contracted.”

“And you know this…” Chris started.

“Ada,” Adam and Jill said together.

“I do have other contacts,” Leon muttered, but didn't really correct them since it had come from a text from Ada.

“I don't exactly feel comfortable just sitting around and waiting to see what Wesker is plotting.” Jill said

“And what do you propose we do?” Adam asked.

“Leon knows where he is, we can take him out.” Chris pointed out.

“I’m not telling you that,” Leon said almost immediately.

“Leon, you can't be serious! Wesker is a danger to the world!” Chris yelled

“Is he?” Leon asked. “He hasn't done anything except help save my life and help try to take down the B.S.A.A.”

“Because he's plotting, it's what he does. Why are you protecting him?!”

“Chris,” Jill said softly, reaching out, trying to get him to calm down.

“No, Jill. I want to know why he thinks it's okay to protect the number one danger to the world!”

“Because I am in love with him, you fucking idiot!” Leon yelled back, finally standing, mold nursing through his suit, lashing out.

Adam darted out of the way, completely not but very much hiding behind Jill who also moved away from the pair

“I. Am. In. Love. With. Him. And in order to keep you protected, someone I am also in love with, I cannot act against him openly.”

“What…” Chris said, suddenly freezing.

Leon gave a bitter, broken laugh. “Sounds so familiar, doesn't it? I never do learn a damn thing…twenty years later and I'm still selling my soul to protect fucking Redfields,” he looked at Chris, molded tears sliding down his cheeks. “If I tell you, he will kill you. And Claire, and Jill, and everyone else I love. He will start with Ada and end with Sherry, ensuring I watch every moment as he tears you apart bit by tiny bit in front of me.”

“And yet you claim you love him,” Chris spat.

Leon shrugged, rebuilding the shield of emotional indifference as they watched, as if the conversation wasn't tearing him apart. “What else do you expect of me?”

“Leon,” Adam said softly and the blond shook his head as if he could shake off his friend’s concern.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to change.” Leon said softly. “Your teams will be here tonight.”. With that, he vanished back into his office, the door slamming shut.

“Satisfied, Agent Redfield?” Adam asked cooly, clearly angry.

Chris silently stared at the pool of Mold in the carpet before storming from the Oval Office, slamming the door.

Jill sighed, sinking back into the couch while Adam poured them both another, much needed drink. “Thank you,” she said softly and Adam nodded, sitting across from her, both silent as they tried to figure out how to deal with their warring best friends.

--

“Why didn't you go with him?”

Leon looked up at Adam as the older man stood next to the bed, buttoning his cuffs. “Hmm?”

“Wesker. Why didn't you leave with him when he came to the lab?”

Leon looked away from Adam’s face, curling more under the blanket. “I was…not allowed to.”

“When has not being allowed to do something ever stopped you?”

Leon snorted. “What would it have gained me? He would have just killed me or something equally annoying and what then? We have a fight going on. The B.S.A.A. isn't Umbrella, this isn't going to be as easy to take down as they were.”

“That was easy?”

“I can't take myself out of play until we make a large enough hit that I know they're crippled, that I‘m not going to turn around and find Ashley, Manuela or Sherry is in one of their labs - that Chris isn't in one of their labs. Fuck, I can't even rest well with Piers not on the ground and he has a team with him.”

“I’m actually surprised they let him back into the field and he wasn't in a basement with you,” Adam said honestly, sitting on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair before grabbing his glasses from the nightstand, sliding them on before leaning in, kissing Leon gently, slowly.

Leon grinned, kissing Adam back, wondering if he could tempt the older man back into the bed when a sharp knock trapped on the door.

“Mr. President, there's been an issue,” came the voice of Adam’s head of Secret Service detail and Adam framed, resting his head against Leon's shoulder.

“Come in,” he called, pulling back from Leon.

Leon reached for his clothes, realizing their night was over. Anything that required the President’s attention this late was never good. He looked up as the man entered, giving him a nod.

The Secret Service agent nodded back before handing Adam a slip of paper.

Adam read it over before cursing. “Two planes have exploded as they approached Andrews,” he read out and Leon froze.

“No known survivors at this time.”

--

The night air was lit up to the point of being almost as bright as noon, from the helicopters in the air, to the searchlights on the ground and the far too many emergency vehicles everywhere.

Smoke was just as thick, as was the smell of blood and fuel.

Leon wanted to vomit, something he hadn't felt since Racoon City.

Next to him, Jill and Patrick surveyed the sheer widespread damage with differing expressions. Jill's was hollow, empty. Having seen too much of the same damage to really be shocked by it any more whereas Patrick was…broken.

He was still so new to all of it.

“Do you think they'll find anything?” Patrick asked, a time of almost…hope, as if the pair next to him would tell him that somehow this would all turn out alright.

“A lot of body parts,” Leon said honestly, staring at the wreckage.

“If that,” Jill added. She reached out, grabbing a handful of Mold tendrils that had been wrapping around her. “You're leaking.”

“Fuck, sorry. High emotions…I think they do it for comfort,” Leon muttered, trying to pull the mold back in.

Jill released the tendrils, but kept her arm still, allowing them to wrap around it, a smile crossing her lips in spite of the emotions of the night. “Leon, if you needed a hug, you just had to ask,” she pointed out, looking at him.

He didn't look at her, swallowing thickly. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and Jill's arms wrapped around him, holding him tightly as he buried his face in her shoulder, crying for the men and women he felt he had gotten killed.

A hand rested on his back, Patrick reaching out to give his own comfort to the agent as a shout came from the site below.

A survivor has been found.

---

Piers was sitting next to Nadia’s hospital bed, flexing and unflexing his normal hand. His prosthetic had been removed, destroyed in the explosion and the trauma to the rest of his body was still healing, but it was gone enough that he was the most recovered of the three survivors.

He had taken the burnt off the blast and impact, doing his best to shield Nadia and DC with a nearly indestructible body.

He looked up as the hospital door opened, meeting Chris' gaze for a silent moment before turning away.

Chris froze, looking at Piers until he was shoved bodily into the room by molded tendrils, Leon trying to get in.

Leon kept Chris bound in the mold so he couldn't flee, already feeling the other man trying to bolt. “Hey, Nivans, you're looking toasty,” Leon said, gently touching a healing burn on Piers’ back.

Piers rolled his eyes, tempted to snap at the other man but fighting against it. “And you're looking quite alive for a dead man.” He looked up as Leon took a seat across from him on the other side of the bed, glancing at the bound form of his former Captain. “Can you feel it if he cuts those off?”

“Doubt it, but no one has ever tried. I don't even think you can cut them.” Leon said with a shrug. “How are you feeling?”

Piers shrugged. “Alive. Healing.”

Leon nodded as if in understanding and as the only other biologically advanced individual in the room, he probably did.

“I’m sorry I couldn't save the others,” Piers said softly and Leon looked at him.

“You weren't even on their plane.”

“Yeah, and you weren't even with us but that doesn't stop your guilt, does it?”

“I’m your boss. It was my plan…”

“You didn't put the bomb in our planes, Agent Kennedy.” Piers interrupted. “You were trying to protect us.”

“I should have done a better job.”

“How?”

Leon was silent. He had ideas, he could have staggered their arrivals - not had the teams in the same plane…but then-Piers wouldn't have been there to save Nadia and DC. And they would have had more planes going up in flames, more destruction, and possibly lose even more people had the bombs taken the planes out a little too early or too late.

There were too many variables to know, truly, what would have been the correct choice.

“I’m keeping armed guards here on you guys and in you personally when you are released,” Leon said after a silent moment. “If we have learned anything, it's that the B.S.A.A. won't be stopped until we actually do stop them and I'm not risking you or them.”

“I’ll be fine,” Piers said, waving off his concerns.

“Piers, healing is all well and good, but I would rather not put you in a position you need to.”

“And I don't want anyone to die to protect me!”

“Who said anything about dying, I have no interest in that either, jarhead.” A voice said from the doorway.

“Right on time,” Leon muttered. “Your guards.”

Piers stood, staring at Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin who were standing there, grinning at him.

Well, Sherry was grinning. Jake was kind of smirking, mildly amused at both the expression on Piers' face and Chris being bound and gagged.

“We got it from here, Dad,” Sherry said and Piers' head snapped around to stare at Leon, the last secret from China being revealed.

“You have got to be kidding me. First I find out my boyfriend and Captain is still in love with you, now the girl I had a crush on is your daughter?”

“Yup,” Leon said easily with a grin. “We’re just one giant fucked up family…aren't you glad you joined?”

--

“You didn't talk to him,” Leon pointed out as he and Chris entered the secure bunker in the White House, waving at Claire as they headed towards the residence.

It has been three months of sharing the secured space and so far it has been…comfortable. It was going to be odd leaving it once Adam left the White House, but arrangements were being made at DSO headquarters to see about secured housing for high risk agents such as the group and a handful of others whose safety and location were too sensitive to be allowed outside access.

“I was bound and gagged, “ Chris reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

“Please, you wouldn't have done it anyway. You were trying to escape before then,” Leon said with a snort.

He headed into his room to change out of his suit, only to find himself shoved up against the wall, Chris’ lips on his.

Leon froze for a long moment, before his eyes slid shut, arms wrapping around Chris' neck.

He was tired of resisting. Tired of fighting with Chris, of pushing him away. Tired of grieving for someone who clearly didn't care

The other man lifted Leon by his thighs, Chris moaning into the kiss as Leon wrapped his long legs around his hips, carrying him towards the bed, kicking the door shut behind them.

---

Sex with Wesker had always been bloody, violent…passionate. It played on Leon's darkest desires of hunting and being hurt. Of being used and thrown aside.

It was a volatile fight of dominance from two who hated to back down, to give in until they were left screaming each other's name in a mixture of blood and come.

Sex with Chris had been…not that.

If Leon were more honest with himself (and Chris), he would admit it was mostly his fault. Their sex life would have been perfectly fine for any normal person, and in another life, would have been more than satisfactory for himself - but that was a long time and a few hundred mental traumas ago.

Not that he had ever bothered to try to tell Chris any of it, instead just chalking it up to Chris not being that into guys and moving on, refusing to confront his own needs and shortcomings.

It was always easier to blame something else, someone else, when you wanted an excuse to run.

As the pair fell back into the bed, Chris’ mouth hot against his throat, Leon hooked a leg around his hips, shifting and flipping them, pinning the other man under him.

He leaned down to kiss Chris hungrily as Mold slid up the other man's body, tendrils seizing Chris’ wrists and pinning his arms above his head.

“This alright?” Leon asked as he slid down Chris’ body, pushing up the tight compression shirt to eagerly get at the chest he had been wanting to bite into since he had first seen Chris after his recovery - how the fuck did he keep getting bigger?!

Chris nodded after pulling a bit in the tendrils and realizing there was a bit of give, keeping him pinned but not uncomfortably bound. He spread his legs, allowing Leon to fall between them. Their groins pressed together, moaning as Leon kissed, bit and sucked his way across the flesh of his chest, apparently trying to map out and memorize every inch of skin with his mouth. “Fuck, Le,” he groaned.

“Mm, I think from this position, it's going to be more of fuck Chris “ Leon taunted, biting at a nipple, grinning when Chris cursed again before he sat back on his calves.

He flipped his combat knife from its holster at his back, placing the blade flat against Chris’ stomach. “Don't flinch,” he warned before flicking his hand. The sharp steel cut easily through the shirt. Getting stuck only when it bounced off the shoulder padding and at the collar’s stitching.

It took more force, but two cuts across the shoulder and the scraps of shit were removed, Leon setting the knife aside to focus on the now fully bared torso before him.

“Mine,” he purred, sliding his hands possessive over Chris' body, mod tendrils fluttering from his fingers to taste and feel at Chris as if the Mold itself wanted to know him.

The tendrils grew as Leon’s hands hit the long dark lines he had left on Chris’ chest when he died, the Mold stretching out to cover them, glistening in the slight as if they were fresh cuts bleeding black.

Chris suddenly gasped, feeling Leon's arousal wantneeddesirenowloveplease, fear PiersSherryChrisbliiddeathPAINdaughtersWesker, his shame and disgust WeskerChrisAdamPiersSEATHwhorefailurepatheticinfectedb.o.w.slutdrunkdisappointment.

He surged up as far as he could, using his legs to force Leon up until their lips could connect, Chris trying to pour himself into the kiss, his own feelings. To take away all the pain crashing into him and leave only the good.

Leon had no idea about the connection, about the emotions and thoughts leaking into Chris, but he melted into the kiss, clinging to him as Chris broke free of the mold, rolling them over so that his larger form was hovering over Leon’s, a protective shield against the world.

Chris pulled back, staring down into Leon's eyes as he gently stroked his cheek. “Let me take care of you,” Chris said softly, biting at Leon’s lips.

He started unbuttoning the other agent’s shirt, his mouth trailing hit kisses as he moved down Leon's chest, spreading the shirt open to bare the lith me torso to him, hands mapping every bit of it as Chris’ tongue swirled around Leon's navel, grinning as his hips fucked up. He sucked at the sensitive skin under the dip, gently biting at the taunt flesh, enjoying the gasp it drew from Leon.

He sat back a bit, fingers working on the fastening and zipper of Leon’s pants, spreading it open to reveal more bare skin, thumbs brushing over the edges of Leon’s pelvis, leading him.

Leon squirmed at the feather light touch, panting softly, eyes darkening as he watched Chris head dip to kiss his skin again, mouthing at each bit of flesh as his pants and boxers were pushed further down.

His half hard cock was released finally, but Chris ignored it, content on tasting and touching all the rest of Leon's skin, moving to his thighs, knees, calves and ankles.

“If you kiss my feet, I’m going to fucking kick you,’ Leon warned and Chris laughed, pulling the man's pants off fully along with his boxers, tossing both aside before starting a reverse course back up Leon's body.

This time his mouth worship involved more tongue and teeth, leaving Leon to writhe on the bed, almost jerking off of it when Chris finally wrapped his lips around his fully hardened erection, gasping his name.

Chris paused for a moment, sucking gently, swallowing and steading himself before slowly - oh so slowly sinking down on Leon, taking more and more of him between his hips until finally Leon was fully ensconced in the wet heat of Chris’ mouth and throat.

“Fuck...” Leon groaned, gripping the sheets. “Looks like the puppy trained you well.”

Chris rolled his eyes, pulling back just as slowly, tormenting Leon, before focusing his attention on the sensitive head, his hands stroking as he tongued and sucked at the organ.

Chris’ eyes were in Leon, drinking in every reaction, every sound, pleased as he watched the masks fall apart, Leon losing control.

Returning to taking Leon fully into him, picking up the pace as he fully relaxed his throat. One of Leon’s hands had come up to comb though Chris’ short air, needing to touch him, to encourage him as the older man worked to destroy his mind, crying out Chris’ name as he fought to keep from bucking up into him.

Chris pulled back after a moment, but continued to stroke Leon. “What do you want, Le? How can I take care of you, baby?” He asked.

“Want you,” Leon whimpered. “Please, Chris…want you inside me…”

Chris leaned up, kissing him deeply as he finally released him, before fishing around in the stand by the bed for the lube.

He had to fish a condom out of his own wallet since Leon no longer used them, having not had to worry about disease or infections since becoming enhanced and thus didn't have them in hand.

He poured a small puddle of gel on Leon’s abdomen, giving him an apologetic look as the other man hissed from the cold, but used the spill to slick his fingers, wiggling one I to Leon as he returned to stroking, keeping it light and gentle - not to get Leon off, but to keep him in a pleasurable haze.

A second finger joined the first quickly, Chris well used to Leon's body and how he liked to be prepared.

“Please, Chris…just get in me, you don't have to be careful…I don't want to be fully stretched,” Leon begged.

Chris sat back on his calves, looking down at Leon, torn. He wanted to give Leon exactly what he wanted, but he also wanted to do what was right, or what he felt was right.

“Le…”

“Please, baby. It won't hurt me. Healing factor, remember.” Leon sat up, cupping Chris’ cheeks, giving him a sweet smile. “I know you're not him. I know you can't be rough. It's okay. Show me what you are. But get. the. fuck. inside. me.”

Chris laughed, kissing Leon as he pushed the other man back down before stripping off his pants. He grabbed the condom, rolling it into his erection before scooping the now warm lube from Leon's stomach, slicking it over him as he leaned over Leon. “You sure?” he asked a final time before lifting Leon’s legs over his arms, lining himself up with him and pushing in, slowly and carefully, watching Leon as he sunk deeply into the other man.

Leon whimpered, fisting the sheets, arching his hips up into Chris to aid him, gasping his name as the man pushed into him.

“Fuck…still feel so good,” Chris moaned as he fully sank into him, clinging to Leon's thighs with a bruising grip.

“You're still too fucking big,” Leon whimpered, hands fisting the bed sheets beneath him. “Jesus, Chris…”

“Just Chris is fine,” he teased, pulling back almost fully before pushing in again, moaning low and deep. “This is something I definitely missed, being inside you, watching that smart mouth of yours stumble as you come apart on my cock…fuck Leon, do you know how beautiful you are?”

“Of course I ‘m beautiful when I’m being fucked,” Leon moaned.

Chris frowned at him, pinching one of his thighs. “You're beautiful always, brat.” He shifted Leon's legs so that they rested over his thighs before sliding his hands up to Leon's waist, using it as leverage to pull him down hard into him, groaning, “oh fuck,”

Leon kicked his legs behind Chris’ hips and pushed himself up so that he was straddling Chris, his arms wrapping around the man’s neck.

He stared down into Chris’ eyes as he slowly rose and sank into him, crying out Chris' name.

The change in position, the intensity of being eye to eye with Leon as their bodies moved made everything more Intense for Chris and he clung to Leon, his arms around the other man's torso as he snapped his hips up into the eager body riding him.

The pace was increasing slowly, steadily, rising as their desire did, momentum growing as the waves of pleasure that built towards their climax.

Leon was whimpering steadily in Chris’ ear, begging for completion and Chris held him, stroking him in time with their moving bodies, wanting Leon to feel nothing but perfect pleasure.

“Chris…” Leon whimpered and Chris could feel it in an echo, the climax washing over Leon first as he came with a cry then echoing into Chris, pulling his own orgasm from him.

Leon clung to Chris who was still rocking inside him but slowing to a stop, gentle kisses being placed all over Leon’s face.

Chris laid Leon back in the bed, smiling as he gently stroked his cheek. “I’m going to go get a washcloth,” he said before vanishing into the bathroom to deal with the used condom and return with said wet cloth, cleaning and extremely exhausted Leon up.

Chris tossed the soiled cloth vaguely towards the hamper before getting Leon under the covers and sliding under himself, turning off the bedside light.

Leon shifted, curling against Chris, a hand resting over his heart as Chris’ arms held him.

Exhaustion from physical and emotional stress caught up with Leon, sucking him into a dreamless sleep, protected by the larger body wrapped around him.

“I love you,” Chris whispered softly against Leon’s hair, placing a gentle kiss to it

Chapter Text

I was a born troublemaker and might as well earn a living at it. - Bill Maudlin

“Mr. President, sir!” Piers said, saluting.

“Please, call me Adam. Far too soon I will be merely your boss and someone else will have that title. Besides, It's hard to yell at me and salute me at the same time.”

“Why would I yell at you, sir?”

“Oh you’ll want to eventually,” Leon said. “Everyone does. I just get to do it the most.”

Adam gave him a dirty look that Leon merely smirked in reply to before returning his attention to the room. “Given recent events, the rosters for teams have obviously been reshuffled. As of now, Agents Redfield, Valentine, Nivens, and the two remaining Silver Daggers team members are a single unit under the authority of Agent Kennedy. I am assuming this will be for B.S.A.A. investigation?” At this he turned to Leon who nodded.

“And any other major outbreaks we need boots on the ground for. I’m not wasting my best on things other agents can handle. I also want Patrick.”

“Patrick? He's not…he’s quite green,”

“So far, but I’ve seen his work. There's hope for him. I think he’ll rise to the occasion if we let him and I would rather he have actual support than throwing him face first into shit like we were.”

“Alright. Now, what are we doing with Ms. Redfield?”

“I want her,” Ingrid said, finally speaking up. “The FSO could always use more hands and Claire would be excellent at field support. Plus it's still helping people.”

“Ms. Redfield?”

“I…okay,” Claire said with a shrug. “It's better than sitting around, wondering where you all are since I can't leave.”

“She's never assigned to Chris,” Leon said firmly. He held up a hand at the protests from the siblings. “It's hard enough listening to your friends and not being able to help, I won't do that to you two. Trust me on this.”

Ingrid nodded, agreeing with him. “I won't allow it anyway. If needs must, I will take Redfield and give you to Claire for missions that overlap.”

“Alright, then sorted?” Adam asked. “Agent Nivans, Agents Birkin and Mr. Muller will take you to your quarters and run training with you to get you caught up.”

“Yes, sir.”

---

“Care to explain why most of my top soldiers are…” O’Brien looked down at a piece of paper. “‘Under the care and protection of the United States’?”

Adam looked at the screen before him, rubbing a finger over his lower lip. “Probably because they found that working for the DSO was a better employment option for their continued good health.’

“And just why would that be, I wonder?”

“We found one of your soldier facilities, O’Brien,” Leon said, stepping into frame.

“Agent Kennedy…I see rumors of your death have been…exaggerated.”

Leon glared at the man responsible for not only his involvement in the B.S.A.A.’s B.O.W. project, but the death of several good men and women who died for no other reason then believing in the cause they signed up for.

“Stop trying to touch my men,” he warned, his voice cold, eyes bleeding to a black color as mold crept through his body. “You will not win this war.”

“This isn't a war, Agent Kennedy, this is an eradication. I have no use for soldiers who can't toe the line. Nor at large bio-organic weapons. You are B.S.A.A. property, and will either be returned to us or be killed.”

“You know this is being recorded, correct?” Adam asked, curious.

“To what end? To have us shut down? Who do you think approved the program, Benford? The UN will not sit idle while the US makes a mockery of it. You hem and haw and refuse to aid us and yet in the end it was you who started this entire mess. It is you who should pay the price. The eradication of B.O.W.’s is no longer achievable. Like the nuclear bomb, Pandora's box is already opened and we cannot close the lid. Our only hope is to be faster, stronger and a step ahead. Return my men to me. Before this gets worse.”

With that, O’Brian’s face vanished, leaving the pair in silence.

---

Leon stared at his phone, a sad smile tugging at his lips. On the screen was a video of a black cat, no longer a kitten, chasing one of Wesker's ties around as he lazily drew it across the bed for her.

[Ghost] I miss her.

[God of Assholes] She misses you as well. I keep finding her in your clothes.

[Ghost] I miss you.

He closed his messages, knowing Wesker wouldn't bother to reply, sliding it back into the pocket on his jacket as he kicked his bike into starting.

Yes, he was supposed to be safely under lock and key at the White House, but the close quarters were driving him insane. Too many people, too close and no matter how much Leon loved them he was ready to start strangling them if only to get some breathing room.

He drifted easily in and out of DC traffic, ignoring the beeping of his earpiece, sliding around a corner too fast and enjoying the rush that came with it.

There wasn't enough space in the city to truly let go, but he couldn't leave either. He was a risk taker, not stupid and staying within the seven miles of the SAM batteries meant he at least had warning if something was happening.

He spun around another corner, not even looking back at the person he almost ran over, and distantly, a part of himself is screaming over that, the part of himself that should have died a long time ago.

That he thought he had killed off.

That had Leon skidding to a stop, gaze drifting out of the flow of the waterfront.

Somewhere…someway in the last few decades, long before he met Albert Wesker, his moral compass has gotten twisted. The innocent kid in Racoon City who had just wanted to help people had…stopped. He had let corruption deep into the very organization he had founded because he was too busy doing anything other than paying attention to it.

When had his mission, his very being, gotten so lost that he just…stopped caring? It wasn't that he didn't try, he still did, he knew that but when had he stopped counting the dead as people and more tallies at the end of a report? When casualties stopped having names that were burned on his memory.

Did he even remember the name of that rookie cop in Tall Oaks who had died? Or the girl whose boyfriend was a complete dick?

If he had cared about them for two seconds, tried to save them, to fight for them the way he had Marvin…would their story had been different?

Leon winced as he remembered Simmons nuking Tall Oaks to hell and back and any imagined coffee date between Rookie Cop and Ms. Shit Boyfriend went up in smoke, but it was just more evidence. Simmons shouldn't have been anywhere near his people. He should have fought Adam harder on the appointment.

He slid off his bike, walking to the edge of the pier, staring out, tucking himself behind a pillar just out of sight.

He pulled a flask from his pocket, taking a long drink. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, blinking at the new message from Wesker. It was a picture of the man himself, passed out in the lab, hair in disarray, exhaustion clear in his face and body despite the tyrant's decreased need for rest.
Below the image was the simple message, He misses you too.

--

Watching Leon as he moved around the nerve center of DSO as its acting director until January was…interesting.

Claire took a seat, studying the man she had thought she knew. Once, many years later she had told him the outfit didn't suit him, meaning far more than the actual clothes on his back…

…But watching him now, Claire realized just how wrong she had been.

She had been angry, pissed off that the good, kind hearted rookie had been swallowed, another suit to wash away the truth, another cog in the wheel of endless violence and suffering, but watching Leon as he checked in with his agents, as he took control of situations that seemed hopeless, even if it was just to hop on a com and assure an agent that help was on the way, stay calm, breath...that rookie cop who wanted to save everyone, even those well past the point of survival wasn't gone

He had just grown up.

The ramrod back once had hardened into steel, eyes that had once been too scared at times had sharpened, the smiles were rarer, but more honest and open.

Somewhere, in the twenty years since Racoon City, Leon had taken the job he was forced into and turned it into his calling. Something more than what he did to survive.

He had found his home.

“Hey Kennedy,” she called as he was studying a screen of maps, as if he could memorize the location of every agent deployed around the world, worrying at his lips. He turned, raising an eyebrow at her and she smirked. “That outfit looks good on you.” She tossed a water bottle at him, watching him catch it before she left the main hub, heading off for FSO training.

--

[Ghost] I want to suck your cock.

[Denial Daddy] Aren't you supposed to be in a meeting with Adam and the CIA?

[Ghost] NSA and it's boring as fuck. I’m being yelled at for mouthing off to the B.S.A.A. Apparently, I am a national security risk.

[Denial Daddy] So you want to use my cock as a gag?

[Denial Daddy] DO NOT SUGGEST THAT TO THEM, KENNEDY.

[Ghost] Damnit. Wanted to see if the advisor would choke on his own tongue. Maybe I can suggest someone else's…

[Denial Daddy] Just sit there like a good boy and deal with it. You're the one who keeps pushing buttons.

[Ghost] Love you too.

---

“Redfield, Nivens, Muller!” Leon yelled, sticking his head into the bunker. “You have a job.”

“Wait, what?” Chris said, confused from where he was cooking dinner.

“I’m on medical leave,” Piers reminded Leon from the couch.

“I don't actually work for you!” Jake yelled down the hall.

“Mission brief, do not look at it until you are in the air, not anymore and I am paying privately,” Leon countered to all three, tossing a bundle on the table. “Please just suit up and go. We can discuss it…later.”

Later being when they were in the air and he was in his new office.

“Bird is on the roof and waiting, Chris, your driving.”

That pretty much silenced everyone, the three watching Leon as he left, wondering what was so big that they didn't even get a pilot, but only needed three of them.

--

”Mind filling me in on why I had to suddenly get dressed instead of cooking lasagna?

“Oh I needed you out of my hair so I could throw a party,” Leon said blandly, giving a smile to the two agents who wouldn't go away as he spoke into his com.

Finally getting the hint, the junior agents left his office and Leon waited until their footsteps faded before turning his attention to the com fully.

“B.S.A.A. members are meeting at an interesting location, an H.C.F. lab. Not soldiers, suits. So either Wes is supplying them with something, the suits are doing an impromptu raid…”

”Or dad has a traitor, probably a few. Why are we helping him?”

“We aren't, we’re helping me. I want to know what that lab is working on. I want to know why the suits are there and I want whoever they're meeting with neutralized. Then I want the lab destroyed.”

”Won't that piss off daddy dearest?”

“Really don't care, Jake. The fewer things we have to worry about, the better and having one less lab producing this crap is a lot less worry. Hit the evac if you want, the workers aren't the target.”

Three people wasn't enough to clear a lab of this size anyway, even if they were three of the best. Intel and destruction was the right course.

For now.

---

He had moved back to the nerve center, watching the three on a small screen on his phone as he focused on other missions, sliding in where he was needed. FSO may have been in charge of support, but these were his agents and in no way was he not going to be watching over them every second he could.

He knew what it was like, to not have someone at his back - they wouldn't go through that.

Movement occurred on the phone and his gaze flickered back to it, watching Chris and Piers breach the lab.

Jake had broken off, the mercenary finding another entrance. While the soldiers drew attention, Jake slid easily in and out of the chaos, blending in, doing what was needed to get information.

Tapping his earpiece, Leon shifted channels to the only other person who knew about the operation, smiling as he heard Sherry humming to herself. “Any movement besides our three?”

Negative. Downstairs doesn't seem to realize what's going on. Black cars still sitting pretty.

“Let me know if they move, I want sats covering them.

All tracking data ready. The second they start rolling we’ll have eyes.

“Good.”

--

[God of Assholes] WHAT do you think you are doing?

[Ghost] My job.

--

Leon should have known the second Wesker knew that an operation was going on in one of his labs things would start to go spectacularly wrong.

The suits had bailed within minutes of the text and somehow their satellite tracking was corrupted long enough to lose them (Leon was going to throw something hard at Ada for that).

Security forces almost seemed to triple before Piers and Chris, forcing a retreat and while Jake was having an easier time, there was no way they were getting information.

Best they could do was hit the self destruction and get the fuck out.

Leon was focused only on them, having moved their feed to the main screen, the entire hive suddenly aware of a mission that hasn't been on anyone’s radar.

“Incoming,” Patrick said and brought up satellite images of three ospreys approaching the group.

“Do we have ID?” an agent in communications asked, trying to get a read on the birds but the images were too low quality and wrong angles.

“Negative and they're not local.” Patrick said.

Leon stared at the images, noticing the distinct lack of markings that would identify military or B.S.A.A. company. “Chris, you have three birds on you, one is Wesker’s.”

“How on Earth…” Patrick muttered.

“Because I put that mark on it,” Leon said, pointing to a barely noticeable dent in the front. “I slammed H.U.N.K. against it.”

”Great, Any chance he’s going to avoid us and just head for the lab?”

“Negative to negative five thousand, find cover. Hopefully he thinks you're still in the lab.” Leon started pulling up reports of what they knew of said lab, wondering why the hell Wesker himself was bothering with a lab raid…he had security teams for that. This wasn't even a high priority target, it was a chance pick up that was barely noticeable - something was in that lab that Wesker didn't want them to find and it wasn't the B.S.A.A. mole.

--

[Ghost] What are you hiding?

[Ghost] Tell me and I will call them back.

[Ghost] Albert…

[Ghost] Tell me and I'll send a dick pic?

[Ghost] What are you selling the B.S.A.A.?

[God of Assholes] I have no dealings with that organization. Where is Redfield?

[Ghost] Oh that gets a response. You have a mole who is about to be dead in 3…2…

[God of Assholes] You blew up my lab.

[Ghost] Do I have your attention now?

---

Leon watched as Chris got the team into the air as Wesker was distracted by his texts and the lab exploding. Two of the ospreys had been caught in the blast, H.U.N.K. having trailed behind with Wesker keeping them out of range, but Leon could feel the moment attention shifted from the lab to the fleeing team.

It also didn't help that the back of Wesker's osprey was opening, a man standing at the rear, rocket launcher in hand.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Patrick muttered, staring at Wesker.

“Unfortunately, not.” Leon said, taping his comm. “Incoming.”

Chris was already taking evasive action, and Leon gripped Patrick's seat as they both held their breath, watching the scene unfold. It was close, far too close for a moment, but the DSO’s osprey burst through the fireball to cheers and Leon could breathe, grabbing his phone again.

--

[Ghost] You made me a promise. He is on that list.

[God of Assholes] I am taking him off of it.

[Ghost] Fire again and the B.S.A.A. will know where you are. Where everything is. Do. Not. Touch. What. Is. Mine.

[God of Assholes] So much for your sweet words of love, Agent Kennedy. You would hurt me for one man.

[Ghost] I would burn the world for him, Albert. Same as I would for you. Leave him alone. Come after me if you want revenge. It was my call.

---

“Uh, Leon…” Patrick called and Leon looked up to find Wesker staring at his phone, a reloaded launcher leaning against his shoulder. The Tyrant made a motion and the hatch started to close as Wesker moved back, vanishing from view.

“Something tells me he's not the type to just give up…” Patrick muttered.

“He's not. We’re going to have company in a few days.” Leon muttered.

“What? Why?”

“I may have basically told an international bio-terrorist to ‘come at me, bro’.*

Patrick facepalmed while Leon patted him in the back. “Keep an eye on the team while I go give Adam the good news.”

Chapter Text

Tragedy is a tool for the living to gain wisdom, not a guide by which to live. -Robert Kennedy

“Talk to your father for me,” Leon said, tossing his phone at Jake.

Jake fumbled it for a moment, staring at the blond on the phone before looking back at Leon and for a moment Leon suddenly had a very startling moment of deja vu, having seen that same look multiple times from Wesker. He walked backwards, leaning over the phone. “Jake, your father, Albert Wesker, Albert, your son Jake Muller. Now entertain each other for a moment.”

“The...fuck…” was the last Leon heard as he vanished into the room he shared with Chris.

Chris looked up from his own phone, arching an eyebrow. “I thought you were talking with Wesker to try to keep him from storming D.C?”

“I was. Jake is babysitting him.” Leon leaned in, kissing Chris deeply. “When he kills me, I want to be buried in something other than my RPD uniform, and don’t think I don’t know that Claire would try it.” He pulled off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, sitting on the bed, toeing off his shoes. “I’m going to try something...I don’t know if it will work but…cover my ass just in case.”

“Leon…”

“Shhh, concentrating,” Leon said, laying down, closing his eyes, trying to find the fungal root inside him, tracing through the veins and threads in his body until he could feel that heart, that core and then he pushed through it. If he had a voice he would gasp, staring at the threads around him, connected to him. There Jake and Sherry were all tangled together, his family, his children. The only two who weren’t connected in this thread were Ashley and Manuela, two he hadn’t seen since returning.

There was Claire, Jill and Rebecca (and there, just behind him, Ada’s strand), his sisters.

Piers was his own strand, a fellow BOW, the pair’s bond twisted around, a ghostly image of Pier’s viral infection running over it. Leon wanted to touch it, to explore it, to see what could come of it but left it aside…already having something to do.

And there, under it all, was the three he was looking for, the strands twisted closest to him - Adam, his best friend, his lover, someone who had been with him even longer than Chris. The man he would give his life for without a question.

Chris, his brother, his lover - the man he had been in love with since he had first met him, possibly even before that. The person he trusted to have his back without having to look, without even thinking about it.

…and Albert. The thorn in his side, pain in his ass…

And the person he loved more than anyone in the world.

He grabbed that thread, seizing hold and pulling, gasping as he was jerked through the mold, appearing in what appeared to be Wesker’s bedroom in the island safe house. He knew, logically, his body was still next to Chris, laying on their bed but his mind very much wasn’t.

The mindscape duplicate of Wesker's bedroom was exactly as he remembered it in most ways - though the small details were different, indicating that it was Wesker's mind that dressed it, the man being more familiar with where his keys were than Leon.

The blond in question was laying in the bed, phone in hand, staring at Leon. “Is that idiot really my son?”

“Yes, and don't call him an idiot,” Leon said automatically, even if he did it himself regularly. “He's also Sherry's boyfriend so my probable son-in-law as well,”

Leon flipped into the bed, wishing it was real so he could smell the coconut and hibiscus of the detergent Wesker used. “What is the H.C.F. doing with the B.S.A.A.?”

“Nothing, as I already told you,” Wesker stated.

“Then why were they at your lab? Why are they meeting again in another hour?”

Wesker started at this and Leon wrote down an address, handing him the paper to memorize, though given he only had so many functional labs at the moment, it wasn't hard to figure out which one.

“I swear to you in Sherry's life, I have no idea,” Wesker stated, using the one person both he and Leon held sacred - his God daughter and Leon's adopted daughter, a child shared between them.

“Find out. Please. I don't want to send Chris after another one of your labs.”

Wesker reached out, touching Leon's cheek. “Yes you do, because you want exactly this - my attention on you.”

“Wes…” Leon said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Leon,” Weaker countered. “You can pretend I’m wrong all you want, but I'm not stupid. Sit there and play house with Redfield all you want, but you forget how closely we are bonded - I can feel you every night, when you think of me while laying in his arms.”

“Fuck you, Albert,” Leon hissed and Weaker smirked, knowing he got under his ex’s skin. “I will find out what the B.S.A.A. wants with my labs. Let's meet…one month from now at the reflecting pool, bring Sherry and Jake.”

“If they'll come,” Leon said, but he was pretty sure Jake would and Sherry would go to protect Jake.

“See you then,” Weaker said before abruptly cutting the connection, leaving Leon gasping in his bed next to Chris.

---

It took almost the entire month just to get Chris to leave him alone so he could meet with Wesker, finally having to send him and Piers on an out of state mission to deal with an outbreak of T that was beneath their skill level, but got them out of his hair.

Jill was in FOS headquarters getting associated with her new handler while Hannigan dealt with the Transition team between Adam and the new President.

Adam himself was supposed to be in Congregational meetings all day to be confirmed as the head of the DSO again, but they had been called off due to a bomb threat at the Capitol building, so instead he was with Nadia and DC, getting the two Silver Daggers adjusted to DSO life in the office.

It all left Leon, Jake and Sherry free to meet with three internationally wanted bio-terrorists in the middle of D.C. at one of the most trafficked tourist sites around.

Perfect to blend in, really.

Leon tapped his gear piece, Sherry and Jake following suit as they silenced communication with home base, but kept each other looped in. Just in case.

He then scanned the masses around him, looking for what he needed and…there. A flash of red next to a tall, blond man who appeared every bit the bored tourist as he apparently played on his phone.

“Wow, he really is that tall…” Sherry said from his side and both men turned to look at her. She shrugged, grinning. “When you're ten, everyone looks like giants - I didn't expect him to still be so…big as I remembered.”

“You're still short, of course he looks tall,” Jake muttered and Leon refrained from pointing out that Jake had his father's genes, making him biased about height.

And no, Leon was not at all bitter that outside Piers, he was shorter than every man he knew. Not in the slightest.

“Uncle Al!” Sherry called, waving an arm before dashing though the throngs of tourists and all but throwing herself at the blond. Wesker, for his part, easily caught her, returning the hug she offered, much to both Leon and Ada’s amusement.

“Uncle Al?” Jake questioned with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah…so that whole weird family thing didn't start with me, your girlfriend is your God sister,” Leon said, clapping Jake on the shoulder. “Albert and her father were best friends since…they were seventeen? Something like that.”

“Okay. I am officially applying for a new family,” Jake muttered as he followed Leon to catch up with the others.

“Tried it, apparently no one else wants our dysfunctional asses,” Leon said. He stood a bit away from the four, arms crossed over his vest before he realized he looked too similar to Jake and instead thrust his hands into his pockets.

It was the first time since the lab he had been this close to Wesker and it was already driving him insane that he couldn't touch the other man. Instead, he watched as Sherry released him and Albert took notice of Jake - father and son staring at each other for a long moment.

“$500 on Muller punching him,” Ada said softly in his ear and Leon smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, giving it a slight squeeze in greeting.

“Bah. Jake knows I would punch him back,” Sherry said as she moved over to them. “Ms. Wong.”

“Ms. Birkin,” Ada said in greeting.

“So that's just a family trait,” Leon said as the two men had a stare down, seemingly communicating in nothing but eye movements.

Whatever silent communication Wesker had regarding his son was apparently over as Jake stalked back over and Leon suddenly found himself pushed by Ada and Sherry closer to the blond. He turned to glare at them before suddenly finding his space invaded by an all too familiar scent.

Raising his head, he looked up into Wesker's face and the world fell away, his whole focus suddenly on the man.

It really had been too long.

“Did you discover anything?” Leon said, skipping over pleasantries and greetings, trying not to lose himself in the thought of throwing himself at his ex (again), clinging to what pride and dignity he had left.

The blond had made it exceedingly clear he no longer had an interest in Leon, and to dwell on what feelings remained for Wesker would just tear the agent apart.

“Nothing,” Wesker said and Leon was surprised that not only could Wesker not ferret out what the B.S.A.A. was doing with his labs - but that he had bothered to show up to the meeting at all with nothing to report. Such information could have easily been passed along without bothering to leave the Island.

“Nothing?” Leon questioned and reached out, placing his hand on Wesker, at the spot where glove and sleeve didn't quite meet, the blond's skin warm under his touch as he pushed at their connection, searching for the lie in Weaker's words - but there was none.

He really hadn't found anything, and it was bothering him. Leon opened his mouth to speak when a ripple of panic hit the crowd. Leon turned, still holding onto Wesker's arm and he could see it in the horizon.

Smoke was filling the air, rising from a point not that far away. Phones started screaming as emergency notifications hit every cellphone in the area and gasps started - either from those reading the texts - or those noticing that several buildings suddenly had opened up SAM batteries.

The surface to air missile launchers were an extremely unusual sight, normally invisible around the city, brought out only under dire threat.

The six (HUNK had been standing to the side, pretending not to exist) pulled out their phones, staring blankly at the words flashing across them.

The Division of Security Operations and Field Services Operations headquarters had just exploded.

“Adam…” It was a choked sound, barely strangled out of Leon's throat as he turned towards the smoke again. He flicked his earpiece to reconnect to the headquarters, only to hear a static that set every nerve on edge.

He started running, shoving people out of his way, desperate to return to where he had left his best friend, his lover - the man who was everything to him for so long.

Wesker grabbed Leon's shoulder before simply lifting Leon and moving stopping a bit away from the site to carefully set Leon down, holding him until he could regain his equilibrium.

Not that it mattered - the sight of the wreckage sent Leon to his knees, the building little more than a ruined pile of concrete and steel with only a scant handful of people milling about, agents that had somehow managed to not be inside.

“Leon?” Patrick asked, turning, before suddenly drawing his gun, aiming it above Leon, as did several other agents, the group firing almost as one.

Uroborus and the Mold both reacted, forming a shield, Leon standing shakily, body dripping mold as he moved forward, eyes black, ghostly wings behind him.

Wesker reached out to grab Leon, cursing as a molded blade sliced though his hand, nearly cutting it in half.

“Kennedy…” another agent called, taking a step back. “Director Kennedy! You are currently protecting an internationally wanted bio-terrorist while at an active terrorist site…”

“Leon, stop!” Patrick pleased as Mold lashed out at him, whipping him back into other agents.

“Leon!” Wesker snapped, forcing himself through the mold tendrils, gripping the younger man's shoulder in a crushing grip.

Leon collapsed to his knees again, gasping in pain and shock, the Mold retreating. Wesker knelt behind him, amber eyes watching the other agents as he pressed his lips against Leon's ear.

“Control yourself, Leon. These are your agents now - they need you.”

With that, Wesker moved back, but didn't move much further, keeping his arms where the jumpy agents could see.

Leon was staring sightlessly ahead before he suddenly exploded, small ash moths taking flight in a swarm.

Wesker watched, concerned and a bit beside himself as the swarm dove for the rubble, flitting into every hole and crack they could, infesting it.

“Uh,” Patrick started, confused. “Did he…”

“It is a side effect of his mutation,” Wesker stated, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Is he…”

The “alive” was left hanging, since Leon was very clearly not okay and Wesker swallowed thickly.

“I…do not know.”. The blond turned his attention to the young agent before him, arching an eyebrow. “If you are not going to shoot me, I recommend putting your gun away - it serves no purpose to keep waving it about. I have no desire to attack you at this moment.”

Patrick realized that yes, he was in fact still holding his side arm and holstered it. While he knew he should probably be focused on taking down the tyrant (as if he actually could), he had little interest in attempting that certain death act right now, not with the death of nearly everyone he worked with hanging over him and one of his closest friends becoming a moth cloud.

It was hours before movement happened. Long enough for every major agency to show up, for Chris and Piers to arrive back from their mission, for D.C. to have gone into lockdown, the scene cleared out and locked down to key personnel.

Wesker had taken over a nearby hotel, booking every available room with Ada handing out the keys to everyone she could, from Patrick to the coffee girl that had escaped the rubble two hours after the blast when they heard her screaming.

It hadn't been his intention to play nice with the survivors, but Sherry had bullied him into it when she arrived on scene, pointing out that Leon would need them when he came back to himself and if they were already taking over all the space, they might as well share.

Wesker really needed to stop being able to be pushed around by small blonds.

When anything DID happen, it was after sunset, floodlights illuminating the area as Search and Rescue carefully moved through the rubble, trying to find survivors, the site silent except for the faint cracking of radios as teams checked in.

Rubble shifted and heads turned, people scrambling away as black mold shot out from under the debris. It spilled down over the pile, lifting and crushing concrete and glass as it went, creating a gaping hole.

A figure emerged from the mold void, darkness coating his figure, entire body covered in the mold.

In Leon's arms was the broken body of Adam Benford, now late President of the United States.

He ignored the people around him as he walked, black eyes fixed blankly ahead, feet not quite touching the ground as Mold instead moved down him.

Behind him, wrapped in a molded cocoon, carefully swaddled came two more bodies.

Leon laid Adam’s body on one of the ambulance stretchers, gently closing his eyes, mold tendrils covering him with a blanket before he brought the two other bodies forward, giving first Jill and then Claire their own care.

As soon as the blanket covered Claire's face, he collapsed, Hannigan catching him by the arms, mold clinging to her as he broke down, screaming.

The sound drew those inside the hotel out and Ada ran for him along with Sherry, both clinging to the man as he lost control in their arms while Chris and Piers dealt with the recovered bodies, Chris struggling not to breakdown himself at Claire's side.

Jake and Wesker hung back, watching the scene, both a part and not of the moment. They were interrupted by an agent coming over, passing a message along from the recovery team who was hoping to borrow the pair for their enhanced strength in moving rubble from the location of possible survivors.

The father and son nodded, HUNK joining them, the three eager to do something, anything that was away from the emotional scene at the side of three corpses.

---

“You were supposed to protect him!”

Leon stared over the shoulder of Amelia Benford, his face blank as she screamed at him. He knew that Adam’s wife would react well when she got the news, but he hadn't anticipated her storming into his hotel room, slapping him.

“I trusted you. Leon! What use are you if you can't even do the most basic thing?! I thought you cared about him!”

“Mrs. Benford,” Ingrid tried, gently grasping the woman's arm only to be shaken off.

“Don't you dare! Where was he?! He was supposed to be at Adam's side and instead, my husband is dead while his fucking whore is just fine!”

“Amelia!”

“It's fine, Ingrid,” Leon finally said, his gaze focusing back onto the woman in front of him. “You're right, I should have been there with him - I am Sorry, Melly. I would give anything to be there in his place, you know that “

“I hate you,” she hissed, before clinging to Leon, sobbing. Leon held her tightly, resting his head on top of hers.

He could remember introducing Amelia to Adam, the young and eager West Point graduate who wanted to take on the world of Bio-terrorism and had better qualifications than most he had seen that year - and turned every head she passed with her good looks. He knew the moment he met her she was something special and knew that his best friend would be smitten instantly, which is why he set up a lunch meeting supposedly to get her a foot in the door with USSTRATCOM - but of course, underhandedly hoping to play Cupid for Adam and Amelia.

Which turned out perfectly, and while he fully expected to lose the sexual benefits of his relationship with Adam - he had forgotten it was D.C. and things were done differently here. Amelia herself was from a political family, she knew the game and had no problem with Leon and Adam’s clandestine affair, keeping her own stable of lovers she enjoyed on the side while enjoying a close friendship with Leon and a love for Adam that Leon could only envy.

“Hate you,” she whispered again, weakly hitting his chest and Leon pressed his lips against her hair. “Not as much as I hate myself,” he whispered.

---

It had been years since he had even looked at his dress uniform, let alone wore it.

He stared at his reflection as he fixed his tie, trying to focus purely on the task itself and not the why of putting on the uniform, hands trembling slightly.

Tie finally done, he grabbed his jacket, heavy with the medals and badges that he rarely paid attention to, slipping it over his shoulders.

Gloved hands slid over his shoulders and Leon's motions still, looking at Amer eyes reflected in the mirror. He leaned back against Wesker's chest as the blond’s hands slid down, slowly buttoning each gold button, eyes locked in Leon's in the mirror, before simply holding the younger man.

“You don't have to go, you know,” Wesker said, this thumb gently brushing Leon's hip. “I think Benford would understand.”

“I am the acting director of the DSO, it's going to be off if I don't show up to the procession and funeral of the President.”

Wesker made a noise, tilting Leon’s head up and kissing him. “And how long until they turn you over to the B.S.A.A. now that he is dead? You are a danger and currently staying in my hotel room - acting director or not, Congress won't keep you.”

Leon sighed. “I am aware. The new President as well as the Speaker have already made it clear.”

As the Deputy Director, Leon had a buffer between him and the powers that be - Adam easily ignoring cAlls for Leon to be expelled or kicked up. Now that Adam was dead, that buffer was gone, and no one was keeping a B.O.W. in power.

“I had been hoping to go away with my sister and her annoying employer, but he keeps being an asshole.” Leon pulled from Wesker's arms, grabbing his baret.

Wesker grabbed his arm, jerking hard, sealing their lips together. He buried his hands in Leon's hair, pressing the younger man against him.

Leon pulled back, looking up at Wesker. “Let me come home,” he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Wesker kissed the tear tracks, before stepping back. “You're going to be late.”

Leon swallowed thickly, leaving the room, the door slamming behind him.

---

The casket was heavy in a way that was far more than the actual weight of the object itself.

Leon felt weighed down by it, not because of it, but everything it represented.

He moved with the other pallbearers easily, trying to keep his emotions from showing as they carried the casket to the graveside, gently lowering it to the stand.

He placed a hand on the flag for a brief moment, saying a silent prayer before stepping back as the funeral proceeded, tuning out the service, lowering his head to keep his face shielded from the mourners and press as hears once again spilled down his face.

Next to him, Chris reached out, two fingers touching his wrist. Leon looked at the other man and Chris gently passed him a handkerchief.

The pair hadn't spoken since the attack, Chris having to deal with the funerals of Jill and Claire while Leon had to manage the political fall out of the bombing of the DSO as well as manage what was left of the agency as its director.

There was so much he wanted to say to Chris, but he didn't have the words, wasn't sure if he ever would.

Instead, he turned his gaze to the crowd, spotting Amelia in the front row, clutching her daughter ‘s hand, various dignitaries and politicians and there - in the back, nearly shadowed…was Ada and what appeared to be a raven haired Wesker.

Leon covered his mouth, the insane urge to giggle hitting him. He pinched his arm to try to stop it, causing Chris to look at him in confusion and concern and Leon jutted his chin at the crowd.

He could see the moment Chris spotted the pair, a noise escaping Chris that sounded like a deflating balloon.

Chris leaned over, his lips pressed against Leon's ear. “Think Adam would mind if we screamed B.O.W. and tackled him?”

Leon smirked, picturing Adam's reaction to such chaos. “He would encourage it - but Amelia would murder us.”

Chris nodded, turning his attention back to the funeral while Leon zoned out again.

Leon's focus returned as Taps was played, moving forward to fold the flag along with Chris before collecting it and walking to Amelia, presenting it to her. “On behalf of the president of the United States, (the United States Army; the United States Marine Corps; the United States Navy; the United States Air Force or the United States Coast Guard), and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

He swallowed thickly as she took it, turning and walking away from her - and right out of the service, unable to be there any longer, promptly falling to his knees several graves away, vomiting.

Chris went to go after him, but realized Wesker and Ada were already moving and held back, not wanting to cause a bigger scene.

He watched as the pair got Leon bundled into a waiting car, before turning his attention back to the service.

--

Leon had left the country.

There was no warning, no notice, just one moment he was in D.C. and the next, his phone was pinging in the middle of the Pacific Ocean before being turned off.

Chris had an idea of who he was with, but didn't say anything when investigators came looking, looking every bit the jilted lover he technically was.

Arrest warrants were issued in his name, the attack blamed on him as if he had planted the bombs that killed people close to him, the powers that be sweeping B.S.A.A. involvement under the rug.

Chris, Piers, Patrick, Huntington, Nadia and D.C. submitted their resignations the same day, boarding a flight to Taiwan, one of the few non-UN member countries they could hole up in.

They were soon joined by other agents and soldiers, veterans of the war in bioterror who were tired of the organizations who were currently in charge, tired of the cycles of covering things up to prevent “panics” that were little more than ass covering.

Blue Umbrella provided aid in the form of funding and supplies, asking little in return except assistance for large scale operations that their teams couldn't handle.

Chris wasn't happy working with the remains of Umbrella Corp - but he did concede that it was a way to keep an eye on them and their ear to the ground.

Chris' main focus however was the silence from Leon, nothing coming from the other man, or Wesker, or even HCF in the year that had passed. The only reason he even knew that the man was still alive was the faint pull he felt every so often through the molded marks in his skin late at night when things were quiet.

That was, until whispers came of something coming. Of shadows brewing.

Bioweapons manufacturers had been taken out, suddenly and without warning. Labs destroyed, heads killed, scientists suddenly going missing.

No one knew who was attacking them, no one saw who was attacking them. It was over before word could get out and never left a paper trail.

The only clue, left in a burn out facility in the artic, was a shaky still of a blond man with black eyes, darkness creeping around him and behind him, ghostly wings at his back.

To Be Continued in “Vicissitude”

Chapter Text

Q. Why are there so many errors?

A. Because I type on my phone and didn't get a beta until the last chapter.

Q. WTF HAPPENED TO THE CATS?!

A. Miss Fortune stayed with Wesker and Ada, the cat he got in D.C. was napped by Sherry. Both are happy and healthy and Miss Fortune will reappear.

Q. Why wasn't Leon the DSO director originally?

A. Because to be the head of an agency you need Congressional approval, Leon wouldn't have gotten it, so Adam returned to the DSO basically as a figurehead. Or was supposed to.

Q. Wait, Adam was married?!

A. In my canon yes. And has two children. Their son was serving overseas and didn't make it to the funeral for personal reasons. Everyone in the family knows about Leon and Adam's relationship, it's something they don't care about. To the kids, Leon is a fun uncle and to Amelia a good friend that takes care of her husband.

Q. Chris and Leon?

A. Yeah. That relationship is just bad all over. There is too much between them to be good and while they very much love each other, they can't be with each other long term.

Q. How does a ghost agent have medals?

A. So this is actually an interesting thing - the US military does in fact, award medals for classified missions. 216 such medals have been given since 9/11 including one Distinguished Service Cross (the second highest medal), three Navy crosses,112 Navy Silver Stars and 100 Army Silver Stars.

These would be in addition to the tour, campaign and conduct ribbons.

As a member of USSTRATCOM, Leon very much was a member of the US military, I am guessing Army by uniform (USSTRATCOM is a joint command of all five branches, but Jack was Army and their uniforms were very 1990’s army).

Given that what was our War on Terror became the RE world’s war in bio-terrorism, a lot of the same medals would have crossed over, with place names changing (Pamastan for instance being a campaign tour).

While Leon would no longer be in active service, he is allowed to wear his dress uniform to the funeral as Adam is also a veteran and the (at the time) sitting US President.

Q. Who is President?!

A. Million dollar question. It's never actually been tested in the US. If you remember, I said there wasn't a Vice President, and that was because he was killed at Tall Oaks. The rules of succession dictate that if both the President and Vice President cannot serve it falls into the Speaker of the House, but this chapter take place in December of an election year (much like our current year of 2024) where if the Speaker took office it would be for a month - technically, while he can discharge the duties of the President, there is no precedent for such an event so he's just keeping the seat warm until January 20th when the new President takes office.

Q. Who blew up the DSO?

A. The B.S.A.A

Q. Vissitude?

A. Is the sequel.

Q. Is this based on RE 9 rumors?

A. Nope. I started this before most of those hit. In fact, it was inspired by the ending of RE 8 (obviously) and my obsession with Leon and Wesker. And art: https://pin.it/4MX8xaZnx ,

http://artpictures.club/view.php?img=https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/010/453/496/large/anastasia-beletskaya-t.jpg?1524515661 ,

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